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THE HEAD VOICE AND OTHER PROBLEMS

Practical Talks on Singing

by

D. A. CLIPPINGER

Author of
Systematic Voice Training
The Elements of Voice Culture







1.00

[Illustration]


Boston
Oliver Ditson Company
New York                     Chicago
Chas. H. Ditson & Co.            Lyon & Healy

Copyright MCMXVII
By Oliver Ditson Company
International Copyright Secured




                               _To_
                            MY STUDENTS
                     _Past, Present and Future_





INTRODUCTION


The following chapters are the outgrowth of an enthusiasm for the work
of voice training, together with a deep personal interest in a large
number of conscientious young men and women who have gone out of my
studio into the world to engage in the responsible work of voice
teaching.

The desire to be of service to them has prompted me to put in permanent
form the principles on which I labored, more or less patiently, to
ground them during a course of three, four, or five years. The fact that
after having stood the "grind" for that length of time they are still
asking, not to say clamoring, for more, may, in a measure, justify the
decision to issue this book. It is not an arraignment of vocal teachers,
although there are occasional hints, public and private, which lead me
to believe that we are not altogether without sin. But if this be true
we take refuge in the belief that our iniquity is not inborn, but rather
is it the result of the educational methods of those immediately
preceding us. This at least shifts the responsibility.

Words are dangerous things, and are liable at any moment to start a
verbal conflagration difficult to control. Nowhere is this more likely
to occur than in a discussion of voice training.

From a rather wide acquaintance with what has been said on this subject
in the past hundred years, I feel perfectly safe in submitting the
proposition that the human mind can believe anything and be
conscientious in it.

Things which have the approval of ages emit the odor of sanctity, and
whoever scoffs does so at his peril. Charles Lamb was once criticised
for speaking disrespectfully of the equator, and a noted divine was
severely taken to task for making unkind remarks about hell. Humanity
insists that these time honored institutions be treated with due
respect. I have an equal respect for those who believe as I do and those
who do not; therefore if anything in this book is not in accord with
popular opinion it is a crack at the head of the idol rather than that
of the worshipper.

There is no legislative enactment in this great and free country to
prevent us from _believing_ anything we like, but there should be some
crumbs of comfort in the reflection that we cannot _know_ anything but
the truth. One may believe that eight and three are thirteen if it
please him, but he cannot know it because it is not true. Everything
that is true has for its basis certain facts, principles, laws, and
these are eternal and unchangeable. The instant the law governing any
particular thing becomes definitely known, that moment it becomes
undebatable. All argument is eliminated; but while we are searching for
these laws we are dealing largely in opinions, and here the offense
enters, for as Mr. Epictetus once said, "Men become offended at their
opinion of things, not at the things themselves." We can scarcely
imagine any one taking offense at the multiplication table, neither is
this interesting page from the arithmetic any longer considered a fit
subject for debate in polite society, but so far as we know this is the
only thing that is immune.

Our musical judgments, which are our opinions, are governed by our
experience; and with the growth of experience they ripen into solid
convictions. For many years I have had a conviction that voice training
is much simpler and less involved than it is generally considered. I am
convinced that far too much is made of the vocal mechanism, which under
normal conditions always responds automatically. Beautiful tone should
be the primary aim of all voice teaching, and more care should be given
to forming the student's tone concept than to that of teaching him how
to control his throat by direct effort. The controlling power of a right
idea is still much underestimated. The scientific plan of controlling
the voice by means of mechanical directions leaves untouched the one
thing which prevents its normal, automatic action, namely tension.

But, someone inquires, "If the student is singing with rigid throat and
tongue would you say nothing about it?" I would correct it, but not by
telling him to hold his tongue down. A relaxed tongue is always in the
right place, therefore all he needs to learn about the tongue is how to
relax it.

It has been hinted that he who subscribes to Dr. Fillebrown's declaration
that [A]"The process of singing is psychologic rather than physiologic"
has nothing tangible to work with. Now tone concept and musical feeling
are absolutely essential to singing, and they are definite entities to one
who has them. All musical temperaments must be vitalized. Imaginations
must be trained until they will burst into flame at the slightest poetic
suggestion. Musical natures are not fixed quantities. They are all subject
to the law of growth. Every vocal student is an example of the law of
evolution. Few people find it easy in the beginning to assume instantly a
state of intense emotion. These things are habits of mind which must be
developed, and they furnish the teacher with definite problems.

    [A] _Resonance in Singing and Speaking_, by Thomas Fillebrown.

To repeat, _the tone is the thing_, and _how it sounds_ is what
determines whether it is right or wrong. And so we come back again to
the ear, which is the taste. Does it please the ear? If so, is the ear
reliable? Not always. If all teachers were trying for the same tone
quality there would be no need of further writing on the subject, but
they are not. On the contrary no two of them are trying for exactly the
same quality. Each one is trying to make the voice produce his idea of
tone quality, and the astounding thing about the human voice is that for
a time at least, it can approximate almost anything that is demanded of
it. If a voice is ruined, the ear of the teacher is directly
responsible. It is useless to try to place the blame elsewhere.

Truth is always simple. If it seems difficult it is due to our clumsy
way of stating it. Thought, like melodies, should run on the line of the
least resistance. In the following pages I have eschewed all mystifying
polysyllabic verbiage, and as Mark Twain once said, have "confined
myself to a categorical statement of facts unincumbered by an obscuring
accumulation of metaphor and allegory."

It is hoped that this book will be useful. It is offered as a guide
rather than as a reformer. It aims to point in the right direction, and
"do its bit" in emphasizing those things which are fundamental in voice
training. Whatever is true in it will reach and help those who need it.
Nothing more could be asked or desired.

                         [Illustration: (signed) D. A. Clippinger]

Kimball Hall, Chicago.
May, 1917.




CONTENTS


  INTRODUCTION
     I. VOICE PLACING
     II. THE HEAD VOICE
   III. A GENERAL SURVEY OF THE SITUATION
    IV. HINTS ON TEACHING
     V. THE NATURE AND MEANING OF ART
    VI. SINGING AS AN ART
   VII. THE CONSTRUCTION OF A SONG
  VIII. HOW TO STUDY A SONG
    IX. SCIENTIFIC VOICE PRODUCTION
  BIBLIOGRAPHY




THE HEAD VOICE AND OTHER PROBLEMS.

I

VOICE PLACING

    "The path of the sound, being formed of elastic and movable
    parts, varies its dimensions and forms in endless ways, and
    every modification--even the slightest--has a corresponding and
    definite influence on the voice."

                                        Garcia.  _Hints on Singing_.


Vocal teachers are rated primarily on their ability as voice builders.
When students look for a teacher the first thing they want to know is:
"Can he build a voice?" His ability as an interpreter in most instances
is taken for granted. Why this is so is easily understood. There is a
moving appeal in the pure singing tone of the human voice that cannot
even be approximated by any other instrument. We have all heard voices
that were so beautiful that to hear one of them vocalize for half an
hour would be a musical feast. Such a voice is so full of feeling, so
vibrant with life and emotion that it moves one to the depths even if no
words are used. It is only natural that all singers should be eager to
possess such a voice, for it covers up a multitude of other musical
misdemeanors. While it does not take the place altogether of the
interpretative instinct, it does make the work of the singer much easier
by putting his audience in sympathy with him from the beginning, thus to
a considerable extent disarming criticism. The old Italians attached so
much importance to beautiful tone that they were willing to work
conscientiously for half a dozen years to obtain it. To the beautiful
tone they added a faultless technic. Altogether it required from five to
eight years to prepare and equip a singer for a career, but when he was
thus prepared he could do astounding things in the way of trills,
roulades, and cadenzas.

The stories of many of these singers have come down to us through the
musical histories, and the singing world has come to believe that the
teachers alone were responsible. Owing to her geographic location, her
climate, language, and racial characteristics Italy at one time
furnished most of the great singers of the world, and the world with its
usual lack of judgment and discrimination gave Italian teachers all of
the credit. That the best of the Italian teachers were as near right as
it is humanly possible to be, I have no doubt whatever, but along with
the few singers who became famous there were hundreds who worked equally
hard but were never heard of. A great voice is a gift of the creator,
and the greater the gift the less there is to be done by the teacher.
But in addition to what nature has done there is always much to be done
by the teacher, and the nature of the vocal instrument is such that its
training is a problem unique and peculiar. The voice can do so many
different things, produce so many different kinds of tone, in such a
variety of ways that the ability to determine which is right and which
is wrong becomes a matter of aesthetic judgment rather than scientific
or mechanical.

If the scale, power, quality, and compass of the human voice were
established as are those of the piano, the great problem in the training
of a singer would be much simplified, possibly eliminated; but the
singer must form the pitch, power, and quality of each tone as he uses
it; therefore in the training of a singer we are constantly facing what
has crystallized into the term =Voice Placing=.

This term has been used as a peg upon which to hang every whim, fancy,
formula, and vocal vagary that has floated through the human mind in the
last two centuries. It has furnished an excuse for inflicting upon vocal
students every possible product of the imagination, normal and abnormal,
disguised in the word =Method=, and the willingness with which students
submit themselves as subjects for experiment is beyond belief. The more
mysterious and abnormal the process the more faith they have in its
efficacy.

The nature of the vocal instrument, its wide range of possibilities, and
its intimate relation to the imagination make it a peculiarly fit
subject for experiment. The scientist has tried to analyze it, the
mechanic has tried to make it do a thousand things nature never intended
it to do, the reformer has tried to reform both, and the psychologist,
nearest right of all, has attempted to remove it from the realm of the
material altogether. There seems to be no way to stop this theorizing,
and it doubtless will continue until the general musical intelligence
reaches such a point that it automatically becomes impossible.

We are constantly hearing such remarks as "Mr. S knows how to place the
voice." "Mr. G does not." "Mr. B places the voice high." "Mr. R does not
place the voice high enough." "Mr. X is great at bringing the tone
forward," etc., etc. This goes on through a long list of fragments of
English difficult to explain even by those who use them.

Now voice placing means just one thing, not half a dozen. It means
learning to produce =beautiful tone=. When one can produce beautiful
tone throughout his vocal compass his voice is placed, and it is not
placed until he can. The injunction to _place the voice_ invariably
leaves in the mind of the student the idea that he must direct the tone
to some particular point, in fact he is often urged to do so, whereas
the truth is that when the tone is properly produced there is no thought
of trying to put it anywhere. It seems to sing itself. There is a well
established belief among students that the tone must be consciously
directed to the point where it is supposed to focus. This belief is
intimately associated with another equally erroneous, that the only way
to tell whether a tone is good or bad, right or wrong, is by the way it
feels. A tone is something to hear. It makes its appeal to the ear, and
why one should rely on the sense of feeling to tell whether it sounds
right or wrong is something difficult to understand.

Further, explicit directions are given for the action and control of
everything involved in making tone except the mind of the student. The
larynx seems to be particularly vulnerable and is subject to continuous
attack. One says it should be held low throughout the compass. Another
says it should rise as the pitch rises, and still another, that it
should drop as the pitch rises. Instructions of this kind do not
enlighten, they mystify.

If there be any one thing upon which voice teachers theoretically agree
it is "free throat". Even those who argue for a fixed larynx agree to
this, notwithstanding it is a physical impossibility to hold the larynx
in a fixed position throughout the compass without a considerable amount
of rigidity. It is like believing in Infinite Love and eternal
punishment at the same time.

When the larynx is free it will not and should not be in the same
position at all times. It will be a little lower for somber tones than
for bright tones. It will be a little higher for the vowel e than for oo
or o, but the adjustments will be _automatic_, never conscious. It
cannot be too often reiterated that every part of the vocal mechanism
must act automatically, and it is not properly controlled until it does.

The soft palate also comes in for its share of instruction. I was once
taught to raise it until the uvula disappeared. Later I was taught to
relax it. Both of these movements of the soft palate were expected to
result in a beautiful tone. Now if two things which are directly opposed
to each other are equal to the same thing, then there is no use in
bothering our heads further with logic.

Such directions I believe to be of doubtful value, if not irrelevant. We
must learn that _an idea has definite form_, and that when the mechanism
is free, that is, plastic, the idea molds it into a corresponding form
and the expression becomes a perfect picture of the idea. This is what
is meant by indirect control, involuntary, automatic action.

One could write indefinitely on the peculiarities of voice training, the
unique suggestions made, the mechanical instructions given, the
unbelievable things students are made to do with lips, tongue and larynx
as a necessary preparation to voice production. In this as in everything
else there are extremists. Some have such an exquisite sense of detail
that they never get beyond it. At the other extreme are those who trust
everything to take care of itself. Both overlook the most important
thing, namely, how the voice sounds.

It requires much time, study and experience to learn that voice training
is simple. It is a fact that truth is naturally, inherently simple. Its
mastery lies in removing those things which seem to make it difficult
and complex. Training the voice, this so called "voice placing," is
simple and easy when one has risen above that overwhelming amount of
fiction, falsity, and fallacy that has accumulated around it, obscuring
the truth and causing many well intentioned teachers to follow theories
and vagaries that have no foundation in fact, and which lead both
teacher and pupil astray. If there is any truth applicable to voice
training it has an underlying principle, for truth is the operation of
principle. If we start wrong we shall end wrong. If we start right and
continue according to principle we shall reach the desired goal.

=Voice training has its starting point, its basis, its foundation, in
beautiful tone.= This should be the aim of both teacher and pupil from
the beginning. To produce something beautiful is the aim of all artistic
activity. Beautiful tone, as Whistler said of all art, has its origin in
absolute truth. That which is not beautiful cannot possibly be true, for
real nature, which is the expression of Infinite Mind, is always
perfect, and no perfect thing can be ugly, discordant, or inharmonious.
The imperfection we see is the result of our own imperfect understanding
of the real universe.

A _tone is something to hear_, and =hearing is mental=. An old French
anatomist once said: "The eye sees what it is looking for, and it is
looking only for what it has in mind." The same is true of the ear. We
hear the tone mentally before we sing it, and we should hear it as
distinctly as if it were sung by another. A tone first of all is a
mental product, and its pitch, power, and quality are definite mental
entities. When we wish to convey this tone to another we do it through
the sound producing instrument which nature has provided for this
purpose.

That everything exists first as idea has been the teaching of the
philosophers for ages. That the idea is the controlling, governing force
is equally well understood. Therefore, inasmuch as the aim of all voice
building is to produce beautiful tone we must start with the right idea
of tone. This is where the first and greatest difficulty appears. To
most people a tone is intangible and difficult to define. One will
rarely find a student that can formulate anything approaching a
definition of a musical tone and I fancy many teachers would find it far
from easy. Unless one has a grasp of the psychology of voice, and a
great many have not, he will begin to work with what he can see. Here
enters the long dreary mechanical grind that eventually ruins the temper
of both teacher and student, and results in nothing but mechanical
singing, instead of a joyous, inspiring musical performance.

In studying the pure singing tone we find the following: It is _smooth_,
_steady_, _firm_, _rich_, _resonant_, _sympathetic_. We shall also find
that all of its qualities and attributes are mental. It must contain the
element of freedom (mental), firmness (mental), security (mental),
sympathy (mental), enthusiasm, sentiment, joy, compassion, pity, love,
sorrow (all mental). These are all qualities of the singing tone. They
are not intangible. On the contrary, to the one who has them they are
definite and are the things he works for from the beginning. They are
basic and fundamental. All are combined in what I call _tone concept_,
which is another word for musical ear, or musical taste. This tone
concept is by far the most important thing in voice training. The
student will not sing a tone better than the one he conceives mentally,
therefore the mental concept of tone, or tone concept must be the basis
of voice placing.

This tone concept, or mental picture of tone qualities controls the
vocal instrument by indirection. True tone color does not come as the
result of trying by some physical process to make the tone light or
dark, but _from the automatic response to musical concept or feeling_.

In leaving this subject I wish to pay my respects to that company of
cheerful sinners--the open throat propagandists. I was taught in my
youth that the punishment for a sin committed ignorantly was none the
less pungent and penetrating, and I trust that in administering justice
to these offenders the powers will be prompt, punctilious and
persevering. It is a worthy activity.

No mistake of greater magnitude was ever made since voice training began
than that of holding the throat open by direct effort. It never resulted
in a tone a real musician's ear could endure, nevertheless during the
latter part of the nineteenth century and even the early part of the
twentieth it was made such an integral part of voice culture that it
seemed to be incorporated in the law of heredity, and vocal students,
even before they were commanded, would try to make a large cavity in the
back of the throat. I believe however, that there is much less of this
than formerly. Vocal teachers are beginning to see that the one
important thing is a free throat and that when this is gained the
response of the mechanism to the mental demand is automatic and
unerring.




II

THE HEAD VOICE

    Let him take care, however, that the higher the notes, the more
    it is necessary to touch them with softness, to avoid screaming.

                    Tosi. (1647-1727) _Observations on Florid Song_.


That the development of the upper, or head voice, is the most difficult
as well as the most important part of the training of the singing voice,
will be readily admitted by every experienced singing teacher.

That the upper voice should be produced with as much comfort as the
middle or lower, is scarcely debatable.

That a majority of singers produce their upper voice with more or less
difficulty, need not be argued.

Why is it that after two, three or more years of study so many upper
voices are still thick, harsh and unsteady?

There is nothing in the tone world so beautiful as the male or female
head voice when properly produced, and there is nothing so
excruciatingly distressing as the same voice when badly produced.

The pure head voice is unique in its beauty. It is full of freedom,
elasticity, spiritual exaltation. It seems to float, as it were, in the
upper air without connection with a human throat. Its charm is
irresistible. It is a joy alike to the singer and the listener. It is
the most important part of any singer's equipment. Why is it so
difficult and why do so few have it? Various reasons are at hand.

The spirit of American enterprise has found its way into voice teaching.
It is in the blood of both teacher and pupil. The slogan is "Put it
over." This calls for big tone and they do not see why they should not
have it at once.

The ability to use the full power of the upper voice when occasion
demands is necessary and right, but merely to be able to sing high and
loud means nothing. All that is required for that is a strong physique
and determination. Such voice building requires but little time and no
musical sense whatever; but to be able to sing the upper register with
full power, emotional intensity, musical quality and ease, is the result
of long and careful work under the ear of a teacher whose sense of tone
quality is so refined that it will detect instantly the slightest degree
of resistance and not allow it to continue.

The ambitious young singer who has been told by the village oracle that
she has a great voice and all she needs is a little "finishing," balks
at the idea of devoting three or four years to the process, and so she
looks for some one who will do it quickly and she always succeeds in
finding him. To do this work correctly the old Italians insisted on from
five to eight years with an hour lesson each day. To take such a course
following the modern plan of one or two half hours a week, would have
the student treading on the heels of Methuselah before it was completed.

It is not always easy to make students understand that the training of
the voice means the development of the musical mentality and at best is
never a short process. To most of them voice culture is a physical
process and as they are physically fit, why wait?

Now the fact is that there is nothing physical in voice production save
the instrument, and a strong physique has no more to do with good
singing than it has with good piano playing. Voice production is a
mental phenomenon. It is mentality of the singer impressing itself on
the vocal instrument and expressing itself through it. The idea that the
vocal instrument alone without mental guidance will produce beautiful
tone is as fallacious as that a grand piano will produce good music
whether the one at the keyboard knows how to play it or not.

Let it be understood once for all that _it is the mentality of the
individual, not his body, that is musical or unmusical_. Both teacher
and student must learn that there is much more to do mentally and much
less to do physically than most people suspect. They must learn that a
musical mentality is no less definite than a physical body, and is at
least equally important; also that right thinking is as necessary to
good voice production as it is to mathematics.

At this point there will doubtless be a strenuous objection from those
who assert that tone cannot be produced without effort, and that a
considerable amount of it is necessary, especially in the upper voice.

It will be readily admitted that the application of force is required to
produce tone, but how much force? Certainly not that extreme physical
effort that makes the singer red in the face and causes his upper tones
to shriek rather than sing. Such a display of force discloses an
erroneous idea of how to produce the upper voice. When there is the
right relation existing between the breath and the vocal instrument,
when there is the proper poise and balance of parts, no such effort is
necessary. On the contrary the tone seems to flow and the effort
required is only that of a light and pleasant physical exercise.

The pianist does not have to strike the upper tones any harder than the
lower ones in order to bring out their full power. Why should the upper
part of the voice require such prodigious effort?

Now _all voices should have a head register_. It is a part of nature's
equipment, and this calls for a word on the classification of voices. It
ought not to be difficult to determine whether a voice is soprano, alto,
tenor, baritone or bass, but I find each year a considerable number that
have been misled. Why? A number of things are responsible. One of the
most common is that of mistaking a soprano who has a chest register for
an alto. This singer finds the low register easier to sing than the
upper, consequently she and her friends decide she is an alto.
Thereafter she sings low songs and takes the alto part in the choir. The
longer she follows this plan the less upper voice she will have, and
when she goes to a teacher, unless he has a discriminating and
analytical ear, he will allow her to remain in the alto class. There is
always something in the fiber of a tone, even though it be badly
produced, that will disclose to the trained ear what it will be when
rightly produced.

Again, the human voice can produce such a variety of tone qualities that
sometimes a soprano will cultivate a somber style of singing and a
majority of people will call her alto. It requires a trained ear to
detect what she is doing. The baritone also, because he often sings the
bass part in a quartet, tries to make himself sound like a bass; this he
does by singing with a somber, hollow quality which has little or no
carrying power.

Another mistake is that of classifying a voice according to its compass.
This is the least reliable method of all. The mere fact of having high
tones does not necessarily make one a soprano, neither is a voice always
to be classified as alto by reason of not being able to sing high. It is
_quality_ that decides what a voice is. Soprano is a quality. Alto is a
quality. The terms tenor, baritone, bass, refer to a quality rather than
a compass. These qualities are determined primarily by the construction
of the organ.

But when voices are properly trained there is not so much difference in
the compass as most people suppose. For example: the female head voice
lies approximately within this compass [Illustration: Figure A] and
altos who learn to use the real head voice will have no difficulty in
vocalizing that high.

At the lower end of the voice sopranos who have a chest register will
often sing as low as most altos. But whether they sing high or low it is
always the quality that determines the classification of the voice.

Many lyric sopranos have no chest register, and it would be a mistake to
attempt to develop one. In such voices, which rarely have anything below
middle C, the middle register must be strengthened and carried down and
made to take the place of the chest voice.

It must not be understood that there is but one soprano quality, one
alto quality, etc. The voice is so individual that it cannot be thus
limited. There are many soprano qualities between the coloratura and the
dramatic, and the same is true of alto, tenor, baritone and bass.

When the voice is rightly produced, its natural quality will invariably
appear, and there it must be allowed to remain. An attempt to change it
always means disaster.

It will be observed that the piano string diminishes in length and
thickness as the pitch rises, and the voice must do something which
corresponds to this. Otherwise it will be doing that which approximates
stretching the middle C string, for example, until it will produce its
octave.

In discussing the head voice it is the purpose to avoid as much as
possible the mechanical construction of the instrument. This may be
learned from the numerous books on the anatomy and physiology of the
voice. It is an interesting subject, but beyond an elementary knowledge
it is of little value to the teacher. A correct knowledge of how to
train the voice must be gained in the studio, not in the laboratory. Its
basis is the musical sense rather than the mechanical or scientific. All
of the scientific or mechanical knowledge that the world has to offer is
no preparation for voice training. A knowledge of the art of teaching
begins when the teacher takes his first pupil, not before. Therefore the
aim shall be to present the subject as it appears to the teacher.

We hear much of the value of vocal physiology as a guide to good voice
production. It is also claimed that a knowledge of it will prevent the
singer from misusing his voice and at the same time act as a panacea for
vocal ills. These statements do not possess a single element of truth.
The only way the singer can injure the vocal instrument is by forcing
it. That is, by setting up a resistance in the vocal cords that prevents
their normal action. If this is persevered in it soon becomes a habit
which results in chronic congestion. Singing becomes increasingly
difficult, especially in the upper voice, and in course of time the
singer discovers that he has laryngitis. Will a knowledge of vocal
physiology cure laryngitis? Never. Will it prevent any one from singing
"throaty?" There is no instance of the kind on record. In a majority of
cases laryngitis and other vocal ills are the direct results of bad
voice production and disappear as the singer learns to produce his upper
tones without resistance. These things are effects, not causes, and to
destroy the effect we must remove the cause. This will be found to be a
wrong habit and habits are mental, not physical. When a mental impulse
and its consequent response become simultaneous and automatic the result
is a habit, but it is the mental impulse that has become automatic.

The terms, _tension_, _rigidity_, _interference_, _resistance_, all mean
essentially the same thing. They mean the various forms of contraction
in the vocal instrument which prevents its involuntary action. If we
follow these things back far enough we shall find that they all have
their origin in some degree of fear. This fear, of which anxiety is a
mild form, begins to show itself whenever the singer attempts tones
above the compass of his speaking voice. Here is undeveloped territory.
The tone lacks power, quality and freedom, and as power is what the
untrained singer always seeks first, he begins to force it. In a short
time he has a rigid throat, and the longer he sings the more rigid it
becomes. By the time he decides to go to a teacher his voice is in such
a condition that he must take his upper tones with a thick, throaty
quality or with a light falsetto. Among female voices I have seen many
that could sing nothing but a full tone in the upper register, and that
only with an unsteady, unsympathetic quality.

Now a point upon which all voice teachers can agree is that the upper
voice is not properly trained until it has a perfect _messa di voce_
that is, until the singer can swell the tone from the lightest
pianissimo to full voice and return, on any tone in his compass, without
a break and without sacrificing the pure singing quality. How shall this
be accomplished? If the singer is forcing the upper voice it is safe to
say in the beginning that it never can be done by practicing with full
voice. Such practice will only fasten the habit of resistance more
firmly upon the singer. To argue in the affirmative is equivalent to
saying that the continued practice of a bad tone will eventually produce
a good tone.

There is but one way to the solution of the problem; the singer must get
rid of resistance. When he has succeeded in doing that the problem of
the head voice is solved. The bugaboo of voice placing permanently
disappears. The difficulty so many have in placing the upper voice lies
in this, that they try to do it without removing the one thing which
prevents them from doing it. When the voice is free from resistance it
places itself, that is, it produces without effort whatever quality the
singer desires. The term "head voice," doubtless grew out of the
sensation in the head which accompanies the upper tones, and this
sensation is the result of the vibration of the air in the air head
cavities. Many have taken this sensation as a guide to the production of
the head voice, and in order to make sure of it they instruct the
student to direct the tone into the head. This is not only an uncertain
and unnecessary procedure, but is almost sure to develop a resistance
which effectually prevents the tone from reaching the head cavities.
When there is no interference the tone runs naturally into the proper
channel. It is not necessary to use force to put it there.


HEAD RESONANCE

Whether or not the head cavities act as resonators is one of the many
mooted points in voice training. Those who believe they do are much in
the majority, but those in the minority are equally confident they do
not. What are the arguments? That there is a sensation in the head
cavities when singing in the upper part of the compass no one can deny.
Does it affect tone quality? The minority offers the argument that it
cannot do so because the soft palate automatically rises in singing a
high tone, thus closing the passage through the nose. On the other side
it is argued, and rightly, that the soft palate can be trained to remain
low in singing high tones. But whether the soft palate is high or low
does not settle the matter. It is not at all necessary that breath
should pass through the nasal cavities in order to make them act as
resonators. In fact it is necessary that it should not. It is the air
that is already in the cavities that vibrates. All who are acquainted
with resonating tubes understand this. Neither is it necessary that the
vibrations should be transmitted to the head cavities by way of the
pharynx and over the soft palate. They may be transmitted through the
bones of the head. John Howard proved this, to his satisfaction at
least, many years ago.

I recall that in working with Emil Behnke he used an exercise to raise
the soft palate and completely close the channel, yet no one can deny
that his pupils had head resonance. There are certain facts in
connection with this that are hard to side-step. Plunket Greene once
told me that at one time he lost the resonance in the upper part of his
voice, and on consulting a specialist he found a considerable growth on
the septum. He had it removed and at once the resonance returned. Other
equally strong arguments could be offered in support of the claim that
the head cavities do act as resonators. At any rate the high or low
palate is not the deciding factor.

Too much cannot be said on the subject of interference, or resistance.
So long as there is any of it in evidence it has its effect on tone
quality. It is the result of tension, and tension is a mental impulse of
a certain kind. Its antidote is relaxation, which is a mental impulse of
an opposite nature. It is necessary for most singers to work at this
until long after they think they have it.

In preparing the head voice the student must begin with a tone that is
entirely free from resistance and build from that. In a large majority
of voices it means practicing with a light, soft tone. A voice that
cannot sing softly is not rightly produced. While the student is working
for the freedom which will give him a good half voice he is preparing
the conditions for a good full voice. The conditions are not right for
the practice of full voice until the last vestige of resistance has
disappeared. The light voice is as necessary to artistic success as the
full voice. The singer must have both, but he must never sacrifice
quality for power.

In the female voice the readjustments of the mechanism known as changes
of register usually occur at about [Illustration: Figure B].

In many lyric soprano voices I have found the same readjustment at the B
and C above the staff [Illustration: Figure C].

I have also noted in many bass voices a similar change of adjustment at
the E and F below the bass clef [Illustration: Figure D].

It would seem therefore, that in a majority of voices until an even
scale has been developed, that these readjustments appear at about the E
and F and B and C throughout the vocal compass. The exceptions to this
rule are so numerous however, that it can scarcely be called a rule.
Some voices will have but one noticeable readjustment, and it may be any
one of the three.

In some voices the changes are all imperceptible. In others, due to
wrong usage, they are abrupt breaks. In every instance the teacher must
give the voice what it needs to perfect an even scale. There should be
no more evidence of register changes in the vocal scale than in the
piano scale.

Leaving the lower two changes for the moment, let us consider the one at
the upper E and F. This one is so common among sopranos that there are
few who have not one, two, or three weak tones at this point. To avoid
these weak tones many are taught to carry the thicker tones of the
middle register up as far as they can force them in order to get the
"big tone" which seems to be the sole aim of much modern voice teaching.
The victims of this manner of teaching never use the real head voice,
and one thing happens to them all. As time goes on the upper voice grows
more and more difficult, the high tones disappear one by one, and at the
time when they should be doing their best singing they find themselves
vocal wrecks. Some of them change from soprano to alto and end by that
route.

Now these are not instances that appear at long intervals. They are in
constant evidence and the number is surprisingly large. The cause is
ignorance of how to treat the upper voice, together with an insane
desire for a "big tone" and a lack of patience to await until it grows.
The incredible thing is that there is a teacher living whose ear will
tolerate such a thing.

Now there is a way to develop the head voice that gives the singer not
only the full power of his upper voice, but makes it free, flexible and
vibrant, a sympathetic quality, a perfect _messa di voce_, and enables
him to sing indefinitely without tiring his voice. He must learn that it
is possible to produce a full tone with a light mechanism. This is the
natural way of producing the head voice. Further, the light mechanism
must be carried far below the point where the so called change of
register occurs.

Every voice should have a head register, and it may be developed in the
following way. With altos and sopranos I start with this exercise

[Illustration: Exercise No. 1]

Altos should begin at A.

The student should neither feel nor hear the tone in the throat.
Therefore he should begin with a soft _oo_. The throat should be free,
lips relaxed but slightly forward. There should be no puckering of the
lips for _oo_. The tone should seem to form itself around the lips, not
in the throat. In the beginning the exercise must be practiced softly.
No attempt must be made to increase the power, until the tone is well
established in the light mechanism. When the _oo_ can be sung softly and
without resistance as high as E flat use the same exercise with _o_.

The next step is to blend this light mechanism with the heavier
mechanism. It may be done in this way,

[Illustration: Exercise No. 2]

Sing this descending scale with a crescendo, always beginning it _pp_.
It should be practiced very slowly at first, and with portamento.
Carrying the head voice down over the middle and the middle down over
the lower will in a short time blend all parts of the voice, and lay the
foundation of an even scale. The exercise should be transposed upward by
half steps as the voice becomes more free until it reaches F or F sharp.

The next step is the building process. Use the following:

[Illustration: Exercise No. 3]

Altos should begin at A. In practicing these swells great care must be
taken. Tone quality is the first consideration, and the tone must be
pressed no further than is possible while retaining the pure singing
quality. Where voices have been forced and are accustomed to sing
nothing but thick tones this building process is sometimes slow. The
student finds an almost irresistible tendency to increase the resistance
as he increases the power of the tone. Therefore the louder he sings the
worse it sounds. This kind of practice will never solve the problem.
When the student is able to swell the tone to full power without
increasing the resistance the problem is solved.

The progress of the student in this, as in everything in voice training,
depends upon _the ear of the teacher_. The untrained ear of the student
is an unreliable guide. The sensitive ear of the teacher must at all
times be his guide. The belief that every one knows a good tone when he
hears it has no foundation in fact. If the student's concept of tone
were perfect he would not need a teacher. He would have the teacher
within himself. Every one knows what he likes, and what he likes is of
necessity his standard at that particular time, but it is only the
measure of his taste and may be different the next day.

All things in voice training find their court of last resort in the ear
of the teacher. All other knowledge is secondary to this. He may believe
any number of things that are untrue about the voice, but if he have a
thoroughly refined ear it will prevent him from doing anything wrong.
His ear is his taste, his musical sense, and it is his musical sense,
his musical judgment, that does the teaching.

So in building the head voice the teacher must see to it that musical
quality is never sacrificed for power. A full tone is worse than
useless, unless the quality is musical and this can never be
accomplished until the vocal instrument is free from resistance.

Exercise No. 3 should be transposed upward by half steps, but never
beyond the point at which it can be practiced comfortably.

As tension shows most in the upper part of the voice the student should
have, as a part of his daily practice, exercises which release the voice
as it rises. Use the following:

[Illustration: Exercise No. 4]

Begin with medium power and diminish to _pp_ as indicated. The upper
tone must not only be sung softly, but the throat must be entirely free.
There must be no sense of holding the tone.

Transpose to the top of the voice.

[Illustration: Exercise No. 5]

No. 5 is for the same purpose as No. 4 but in an extended form. Begin
with rather full voice and diminish to _pp_ ascending. Increase to full
voice descending.

Continue the building of the upper voice using the complete scale.

[Illustration: Exercise No. 6]

Thus far in preparing the head voice we have used the vowels _oo_ and
_o_. We may proceed to the vowel _ah_ in the following way. Using Ex.
No. 6 first sing _o_ with loose but somewhat rounded lips. When this
tone is well established sing _o_ with the same quality, the same focus,
or placing without rounding the lips. It amounts to singing _o_ with the
_ah_ position. When this can be done then use short _u_ as in the word
_hum_. This gives approximately the placing for _ah_ in the upper voice.
When these vowels can all be sung with perfect freedom transpose upward
by half steps.

[Illustration: Exercise No. 7]

In No. 7 when the crescendo has been made on the upper tone carry the
full voice to the bottom of the scale.

[Illustration: Exercise No. 8]

This is another way of blending the different parts of the voice. It
should be sung portamento in both directions. When sung by a female
voice it will be Middle, Head, Middle as indicated by the letters M, H,
M. When sung by the male voice it will be Chest, Head, Chest as
indicated by the letters C, H, C. Transpose upward by half steps.

When the foregoing exercises are well in hand the head voice may be
approached from the middle and lower registers in scale form as in the
following:

[Illustration: Exercise No. 9]

[Illustration: Exercise No. 10]

[Illustration: Exercise No. 11.]

[Illustration: Exercise No. 12.]

[Illustration: Exercise No. 13.]

The fact that male voices are more often throaty in the upper register
then female voices calls for special comment.

The following diagram showing the relationship of the two voices will
help to elucidate the matter.

[Illustration: Figure E]

I have here used three octaves of the vocal compass as sufficient for
the illustration. Remembering that the male voice is an octave lower
than the female voice we shall see that the female voice is a
continuation, as it were, of the male voice; the lower part of the
female compass overlapping the upper part of the male compass, the two
having approximately an octave G to G in common. Further it will be seen
that both male and female voices do about the same thing at the same
absolute pitches. At about E flat or E above middle C the alto or
soprano passes from the chest to the middle register. It is at the same
absolute pitches that the tenor passes from what is usually called open
to covered tone, but which might better be called from chest to head
voice. There is every reason to believe that the change in the mechanism
is the same as that which occurs in the female voice at the same
pitches. That there is oftentimes a noticeable readjustment of the
mechanism in uncultivated voices at these pitches no observing teacher
will deny, and these are the voices which are of special interest to the
teacher, and the ones for which books are made. It will be observed that
this change in the male voice takes place in the upper part of his
compass instead of in the lower, as in the female voice. This change
which is above the compass of the speaking voice of the tenor or
baritone, adds greatly to its difficulty. For this reason the training
of the male head voice requires more care and clearer judgment than
anything else in voice training.

In treating this part of the female voice we have learned that if the
heavy, or chest voice, is carried up to G or A above middle C it weakens
the tones of the middle register until they finally become useless. Then
the chest tones become more difficult and disappear one by one and the
voice has no further value. Identically the same thing happens to the
tenor who, by reason of sufficient physical strength forces his chest
voice up to G, A, or B flat. He may be able to continue this for awhile,
sometimes for a few years, but gradually his upper tones become more
difficult and finally impossible and another vocal wreck is added to the
list.

In restoring the female voice that has carried the chest voice too high
it is necessary to carry the middle register down, sometimes as low as
middle C until it has regained its power. The tenor or baritone must do
essentially the same thing. He must carry the head voice, which is a
lighter mechanism than the chest voice, down as low as this c
[Illustration: Figure F] using what is often called mixed voice. When
the pitches [Illustration: Figure G] are practiced with a sufficiently
relaxed throat the tone runs naturally into the head resonator with a
feeling almost the equivalent of that of a nasal tone, but this tone
will be in no sense nasal. It will be head voice.


THE FALSETTO

Does the falsetto have any part in the development of the head voice?
This inoffensive thing is still the subject of a considerable amount of
more of less inflammatory debate both as to what it is and what it does.
Without delay let me assure every one that it is perfectly harmless.
There is no other one thing involved in singing, immediate or remote,
from which the element of harm is so completely eliminated. It is held
by some that it is produced by the false vocal chords. This position is
untenable for the reason that I have known many singers who could go
from the falsetto to a full ringing tone and return with no perceptible
break. Now since it will hardly be argued that a ringing, resonant tone
could be produced by the false vocal cords, it is evident that the
singer must change from the false to the true vocal cords somewhere in
the process--a thing which is unthinkable.

It is held by others that the falsetto is a relic of the boy's voice,
which has deteriorated from lack of use. This seems not unreasonable,
and a considerable amount of evidence is offered in support of it. We
may safely assume however that it is produced by the true vocal cords
and the lightest register in the male voice. What is its use? Unless its
quality can be changed it has little or no musical value. There are some
teachers who claim that the falsetto mechanism is the correct one for
the tenor voice and should be used throughout the entire compass. I am
not prepared to subscribe to this. There are others who believe that the
falsetto should be developed, resonated, so that it loses its flute
quality, and blended with the head voice. This seems in the light of my
experience to be reasonable. When this can be done it gives the singer
the most perfect mechanism known. But it cannot always be done. The
voice is individual, and the entire sum of individual experience leaves
its impression on it. I have found many voices where the falsetto was so
completely detached from the head voice that it would be a waste of time
to attempt to blend them.

But there is one place in voice training where the practice of the
falsetto has a distinct value. I have seen many tenors and baritones who
forced the heavy chest voice up until they developed an automatic
clutch, and could sing the upper tones only with extreme effort. To
allow them to continue in that way would never solve their problem. In
such a condition half voice is impossible. It must be one thing or the
other, either the thick chest voice or falsetto. The falsetto they can
produce without effort, and herein lies its value. They become
accustomed to hearing their high tones without the association of
effort, and after a time the real head voice appears. The thing which
prevented the head voice from appearing in the beginning was extreme
resistance, and as soon as the resistance disappeared the head voice
made its appearance. This was accomplished by the practice of the very
light register known as falsetto. When the head voice appears the use of
the falsetto may be discontinued.

The thing expected of the teacher is results and he should not be afraid
to use anything that will contribute to that end.

It is in the upper part of the voice that mistakes are most likely to be
made and ninety nine per cent of the mistakes is forcing the voice, that
is, singing with too much resistance. So long as the resistance
continues a good full tone is impossible. The plan outlined above for
eliminating resistance has been tested with many hundreds of voices and
has never failed. The idea held by some that such practice can never
produce a large tone shows a complete misunderstanding of the whole
matter. That it produces the full power of the voice without sacrificing
its musical quality is being proved constantly.

Every day we hear the story of voices ruined by forcing high tones. Who
is responsible? Each one must answer for himself. With the hope of
diminishing it in some degree, this outline is offered.




III

A GENERAL SURVEY OF THE SITUATION

    "I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove: I will roar you
    an't were any nightingale."

                          Shakespeare.  _A Midsummer Night's Dream_.


The singing world is confronted with a situation unique in its humor. On
every side we hear the lachrymose lament that voice training is in a
chaotic condition, that _bel canto_ is a lost art, and that the golden
age of song has vanished from the earth.

The unanimity of this dolorous admission would seem to be a sad
commentary on the fraternity of voice teachers; but here enters the
element of humor. There is not recorded a single instance of a voice
teacher admitting that his own knowledge of the voice is chaotic. He
will admit cheerfully and oftentimes with ill concealed enthusiasm that
every other teacher's knowledge is in a chaotic condition, but his own
is a model of order and intelligence.

If we accept what voice teachers think of themselves the future looks
rosy. If we accept what they think of each other the future is ominous
and the need for reform is dire and urgent.

But if a reform be ordered where shall it begin? Obviously among the
teachers themselves. But judging from the estimate each one puts upon
himself how shall we reform a thing which is already perfect? On the
other hand, if we take the pessimistic attitude that all teachers are
wrong will it not be a case of the blind leading the blind, in which
instance their destination is definitely determined somewhere in the New
Testament. Verily the situation is difficult. Nevertheless it is not
altogether hopeless. The impulse to sing still remains. More people are
studying singing, and more people sing well today than at any other time
in the history of the world. The impulse to sing is as old as the human
race. When the joy of life first welled up within man and demanded
utterance the vocal instrument furnished by nature was ready to respond
and the art of singing began, and if we may venture a prophecy it will
never end in this world or the next. It cannot be destroyed even by the
teachers themselves. It is this natural, inborn desire to sing that is
directly responsible for the amazing perseverance of many vocal
students. If after a year or two of study they find they are wrong they
are not greatly disturbed, but select another teacher, firm in the faith
that eventually they will find the right one and be safely led to the
realization of their one great ambition--to be an artist. It is this
that has kept the art alive through the centuries and will perpetuate
it. This impulse to sing is something no amount of bad teaching can
destroy.


THE REFORM

Everything in the universe that has come under the scrutiny of mortal
man has been subjected to a perpetual reformation. Nothing is too great
or too small to engage the attention of the reformer. Religion,
politics, medicine and race suicide are objects of his special
solicitude, but nothing else has been forgotten. No phase of human
activity has been allowed to remain at rest. So far as we know nothing
but the multiplication table has escaped the reformer. There is a
general feeling that nothing is exactly right. This may be the operation
of the law of progress, doubtless it is, but it occasions a mighty
unrest, and keeps the world wondering what will happen next. This law of
progress is but another name for idealism to which the world owes
everything. Idealism is that which sees a better condition than the one
which now obtains. The process of realizing this better condition is in
itself reformation.

As far back as we have any knowledge of the art of singing the reformers
have been at work, and down through the centuries their energies have
been unflagging. We owe to them whatever advance has been made toward a
perfect system of voice training, but they are also responsible for many
things pernicious in their nature which have been incorporated in
present day methods of teaching, for it must be admitted that there are
false prophets among singing teachers no less than among the members of
other professions. There is one interesting thing connected with the
work of these vocal reformers. From the beginning they have insisted
that the art of _bel canto_ is lost. Tosi (1647-1727), Porpora
(1686-1766), Mancini (1716-1800), three of the greatest teachers of the
old Italian school, all lamented the decadence of the art of singing.
Others before and since have done the same thing. It seems that in all
times any one who could get the public ear has filled it with this sort
of pessimistic wail. From this we draw some interesting conclusions:
First, that the real art of singing was lost immediately after it was
found. Second, that the only time it was perfect was when it began.
Third, that ever since it began we have been searching for it without
success. If any of this is true it means that all of the great singers
of the past two hundred years have been fakers, because they never
really learned how to sing. It is surprising that we did not see through
these musical Jeremiahs long ago. In all ages there have been good
teachers and bad ones, and it would not be surprising if the bad ones
outnumbered the good ones; but the weak link in the chain of argument is
in estimating the profession by its failures. This is a cheap and much
overworked device and discloses the egotism of the one using it. There
are teachers today who thoroughly understand the art of _bel canto_.
They have not lost it, and the others never had it. This condition has
obtained for centuries and will continue indefinitely. An art should be
measured by its best exponents, not by its worst. To measure it by its
failures is illogical and dishonest.

In recent years the process of reformation has been applied to all
branches of music teaching with the hope of reducing these failures to a
minimum. The profession has suddenly awakened to the fact that it must
give a better reason for its existence than any heretofore offered. It
has become clear to the professional mind that in order to retain and
enlarge its self-respect music must be recognized as a part of the great
human uplift. To this end it has been knocking at the doors of the
institutions of learning asking to be admitted and recognized as a part
of public education. The reply has been that music teaching must first
develop coherence, system and standards. This has caused music teachers
to look about and realize as never before that the profession as a whole
has no organization and no fixed educational standards. Every teacher
fixes his own standard and is a law unto himself. The standard is
individual, and if the individual conscience is sufficiently elastic the
standard gives him no serious concern. But as a result of this awakening
there is a concerted action throughout the country to standardize, to
define the general scope of learning necessary to become a music
teacher. The trend of this is in the right direction, and good may be
expected from it, although at best it can be but a very imperfect method
of determining one's fitness to teach. The determining factors in
teaching are things which cannot be discovered in any ten questions. In
fact an examination must necessarily confine itself to general
information, but in teaching, the real man reveals himself. His high
sense of order, logic, patience, his love and appreciation of the
beautiful, his personality, his moral sense, the mental atmosphere of
his studio, these all enter into his teaching and they are things
difficult to discover in an examination. Unconsciously the teacher gives
out himself along with the music lesson, and it is equally important
with his knowledge of music. Therefore it is as difficult to establish
definite standards of teaching as it is of piano or violin making.

In attempting to establish standards of voice teaching the problem
becomes positively bewildering. The voice is so completely and
persistently individual, and in the very nature of things must always
remain so, that an attempt to standardize it or those who train it is
dangerous. Yet notwithstanding this, voice teachers are the most
industrious of all in their efforts to organize and standardize. The
insistence with which this aim is prosecuted is worthy of something
better than is likely to be achieved.

That there is no standard among voice teachers save that of the
individual will be admitted without argument; and until there is such a
thing as a fixed standard of musical taste this condition will remain,
for the musical taste of the teacher is by far the most potent factor in
the teaching of tone production.

Of late there have been vigorous efforts to establish a standard tone
for singers. This, according to the apostles of "Harmony in the ranks,"
is the one way of unifying the profession. As an argument this is
nothing short of picturesque, and can be traced to those unique and
professedly scientific mentalities that solve all vocal problems by a
mathematical formula. As an example of the chimerical, impossible and
altogether undesirable, it commands admiration. If it is impossible to
establish a standard tone for pianos where the problem is mechanical,
what may we expect to do with voice where the problem is psychological?

When we have succeeded in making all people look alike, act alike, think
alike; when we have eliminated all racial characteristics and those
resulting from environment; when people are all of the same size,
weight, proportion, structure; when skulls are all of the same size,
thickness and density; when all vocal organs and vocal cavities are of
the same form and size; when we have succeeded in equalizing all
temperaments; when there is but one climate, one language, one
government, one religion; when there is no longer such a thing as
individuality--then perhaps a standard tone may be considered. Until
that time nothing could be more certain of failure. The great charm of
voices is their individuality, which is the result not alone of
training, but of ages of varied experience, for man is the sum of all
that has preceded him. It is, to say the least, an extraordinary
mentality that would destroy this most vital element in singing for the
sake of working out a scientific theory.

But there is no immediate danger. Nature, whose chief joy is in variety
and contrast, is not likely to sacrifice it suddenly to a mere whim.

When we speak of a standard tone we enter the domain of acoustics and
must proceed according to the laws of physics. In this standard tone
there must be a fundamental combined with certain overtones. But who
shall say which overtones, and why the particular combination? The
answer must be "because it sounds best." A tone being something to hear,
this is a logical and legitimate answer. But if the listener knows when
it sounds right he knows it entirely separate and apart from any
knowledge he may have of its scientific construction; hence such
knowledge is of no value whatever in determining what is good and what
is bad in tone quality. A tone is not a thing to see and the teacher
cannot use a camera and a manometric flame in teaching tone production.
Any knowledge he may have gained from the use of such instruments in the
laboratory is valueless in teaching.

If it were possible to adopt as a standard tone a certain combination of
fundamental and overtones (which it is not), and if it were possible to
make all singers use this particular tone (which, thank heaven it is
not), then all voices would sound alike and individuality would at once
disappear.

The advocates of this kind of standard tone cannot disengage themselves
from the belief that all vocal organs are alike. The exact opposite is
the truth. Vocal organs are no more alike than are eyes, noses, hands
and dispositions. Each of these conforms only to a general type. The
variation is infinite.


MENTALITY

The mentality of the individual forms the organ through which it can
express itself, and this mentality is the accumulation of all of the
experience which has preceded it. Further, muscles and cartilages are
not all of the same texture. Thyroid cartilages vary in size and shape.
The vocal cavities, pharynx, mouth and nasal cavities are never exactly
the same in any two people. The contours of the upper and lower jaw and
teeth, and of the palatal arch are never found to be exactly alike. All
of these variations are a part of the vocal instrument and determine its
quality. Every vocal organ when properly directed will produce the best
quality of which that particular instrument is capable. An attempt to
make it produce something else must necessarily be a failure. The
structure of the instrument determines whether the voice is bass, tenor,
alto or soprano with all of the variations of these four classes. The
individuality of the voice is fixed by nature no less definitely.

The effort to standardize tone quality discloses a misapprehension of
what it means to train a voice. Its advocates look upon man as so much
matter, and the voice as something which must be made to operate
according to fixed mathematical rules and ignore completely its
psychology.

But the rich humor of it all appears when the propagandists of standard
tone meet to establish the standard. It is soon observed that there are
as many standards as there are members present and the only result is a
mental fermentation.


GETTING TOGETHER

In recent years many attempts have been made by vocal teachers to "get
together." As nearly as can be ascertained this getting together means
that all shall teach in the same way, that all shall agree on the
disputed points in voice training, or that certain articles of faith to
which all can subscribe, shall be formulated; but when it comes to
deciding whose way it shall be or whose faith shall be thus exalted,
each one is a Gibraltar and the only perceptible result is an
enlargement of the individual ego. And so it endeth.


WHY TEACHERS DISAGREE

Voice teachers are divided into two general classes--those who make a
knowledge of vocal physiology the basis of teaching and those who do
not. The members of the first class follow the teachings of some one of
the scientific investigators. Each one will follow the scientist or
physiologist whose ideas most nearly coincide with his own, or which
seem most reasonable to him. In as much as the scientists have not yet
approached anything resembling an agreement, it follows that their
disciples are far from being of one mind.

The members of the second class hold that a knowledge of vocal anatomy
and physiology beyond the elements has no value in teaching, and that
the less the student thinks about mechanism the better. The scientific
voice teachers usually believe in direct control of the vocal organs.
The members of the opposite class believe in indirect control. This
establishes a permanent disagreement between the two general classes,
but the disagreement between those who believe in indirect control is
scarcely less marked. Here it is not so much a matter of how the tone is
produced, but rather the tone itself. This is due entirely to the
difference in taste among teachers. The diversity of taste regarding
tone quality is even greater than that regarding meat and drink. This
fact seems to be very generally overlooked. It is this that so mystifies
students. After studying with a teacher for one or more years they go to
another to find that he at once tries to get a different tone quality
from that of the first. When they go to the third teacher he tries for
still another quality. If they go to a half dozen teachers each one will
try to make them produce a tone differing in some degree from all of the
others. The student doubtless thinks this is due to the difference in
understanding of the voice among teachers, but this is not so. It is due
entirely to their differing tastes in tone quality. The marvelous thing
is that the voice will respond in a degree to all of these different
demands made upon it; but it forces the student to the conclusion that
voice training is an indefinite something without order, system, or
principle.

So, in studying the conditions which obtain in voice teaching at the
present time it must be admitted that the evidence of unity is slight;
and the probability of increasing it by organization or legislative
enactment is not such as to make one enthusiastic. What one believes is
very real to himself. In fact it is the only thing that seems right to
him, therefore he sees no valid reason why he should change his belief
or why others should not believe as he does. This positive element in
the human ego is advantageous at times, but it is also responsible for
all conflicts from mild disagreements to war among nations.

But arguments and battles rarely ever result in anything more than an
armed truce. Difference of opinion will continue indefinitely, but of
this we may be sure, that the solution of the vocal problem will never
come through a study of vocal mechanism however conscientious and
thorough it may be, but through a purer musical thought, a deeper
musical feeling, a clearer vision of what is cause and what is effect, a
firmer conviction of the sanctity of music, an unerring knowledge of the
relationship existing between the singer and his instrument.




IV

HINTS ON TEACHING

    "We live in a world of unseen realities, the world of thoughts
    and feelings. But 'thoughts are things,' and frequently they
    weigh more and obtain far more in the making of a man than do
    all the tangible realities which surround him. Thoughts and
    feelings are the stuff of which life is made. They are the
    language of the soul. By means of them we follow the development
    of character, the shaping of the soul which is the one great
    purpose of life."

                                   _Appreciation of Art_. Loveridge.


Every year a large number of young men and women go in quest of a
singing teacher. The impulse to sing, which is inborn, has become so
insistent and irrepressible that it must be heeded; and the desire to do
things well, which is a part of the mental equipment of every normal
human being, makes outside assistance imperative. Wherever there is a
real need the supply is forthcoming, so there is little difficulty in
finding some one who is ready, willing, in fact rather anxious, to
undertake the pleasant task of transforming these enthusiastic amateurs
into full-fledged professionals.

The meeting of the teacher and student always takes place in the studio,
and it is there that all vocal problems are solved. Let no one imagine
that any vocal problem can be solved in a physics laboratory. Why?
_Because not one of the problems confronting the vocal student is
physical. They are all mental._ The writer has reached this conclusion
not from ignoring the physical, but from making a comprehensive study of
the vocal mechanism and its relation to the singer.

The anatomy and physiology of the vocal mechanism are absorbing to one
who is interested in knowing how man, through untold centuries of growth
has perfected an instrument through which he can express himself; but no
matter how far we go in the study of anatomy and physiology all we
really learn is what mind has done. If man has a more perfect and highly
organized vocal instrument than the lower animals it is because his
higher manifestation of mind has formed an instrument necessary to its
needs.

When man's ideas and needs were few and simple his vocabulary was small,
for language is the means by which members of the species communicate
with each other. Whenever man evolved a new idea he necessarily invented
some way of communicating it, and so language grew. A word is the symbol
of an idea, but invariably the idea originates the word. The word does
not originate the idea. The idea always arrives first. All we can ever
learn from the study of matter is phenomena, the result of the activity
of mind.

Thus we see that so called "scientific study" of the vocal mechanism is
at best, but a study of phenomena. It creates nothing. It only discovers
what is already taking place, and what has been going on indefinitely
without conscious direction will, in all probability, continue.

The value attached by some to the study of vocal physiology is greatly
overestimated. In fact its value is so little as to be practically
negligible. It furnishes the teacher nothing he can use in giving a
singing lesson, unless, perchance he should be so unwise as to begin the
lesson with a talk on vocal mechanism, which, by the way, would much
better come at the last lesson than the first. All we can learn from the
study of vocal physiology is the construction of the vocal instrument,
and this bears the same relation to singing that piano making bears to
piano playing. The singer and his instrument are two different things,
and a knowledge of the latter exerts very little beneficial influence on
the former.

To reach a solution of the vocal problem we must understand the relation
existing between the singer and his instrument.

The singer is a mentality, consequently everything he does is an
activity of his mentality. Seeing, hearing, knowing, is this mentality
in action. The two senses most intimately associated with artistic
activity are seeing and hearing, and these are mental. In painting,
sculpture, and architecture we perceive beauty through the eye. In music
it reaches us through the ear; but _the only thing that is cognizant is
the mind_. To man the universe consists of mental impressions, and that
these impressions differ with each individual is so well understood that
it need not be argued. Two people looking at the same picture will not
see exactly the same things. Two people listening to a musical
composition may hear quite different things and are affected in
different ways, because _it is the mind that hears_, and as no two
mentalities are precisely the same, it must be apparent that the
impressions they receive will be different. The things these mentalities
have in common they will see and hear in common, but wherein they differ
they will see and hear differently. Each will see and hear to the limit
of his experience, but no further.

To be a musician one must become conscious of that particular thing
called music. He must learn to think music. The elements of music are
rhythm, melody, harmony, and form, and their mastery is no less a mental
process than is the study of pure mathematics.

The human mind is a composite. It is made up of a large number of
faculties combined in different proportions. The germs of all knowledge
exist in some form and degree in every mind. When one faculty
predominates we say the individual has talent for that particular thing.
If the faculty is abnormally developed we say he is a genius, but all
things exist as possibilities in every mind. Nature puts no limitations
on man. Whatever his limitations, they are self imposed, nature is not a
party to the act.

Now this is what confronts the teacher whenever a student comes for a
lesson. He has before him a mentality that has been influenced not only
by its present environment, but by everything that has preceded it. "Man
is," as an old philosopher said, "a bundle of habits," and habits are
mental trends. His point of view is the product of his experience, and
it will be different from that of every one else. The work of the
teacher is training this mentality. Understanding this it will be seen
how futile would be a fixed formula for all students, and how
necessarily doomed to failure is any method of voice training which
makes anatomy and physiology its basis. Further, there is much to be
done in the studio beside giving the voice lesson. Whistler said that
natural conditions are never right for a perfect picture. From the
picture which nature presents the artist selects what suits his purpose
and rejects the rest. It is much the same in the training of a singer.
In order that the lesson be effective the conditions must be right. This
only rarely obtains in the beginning. The student's attitude toward the
subject must be right or the lesson will mean little to him. The lesson
to be effective must be protected by _honesty_, _industry_ and
_perseverance_. If these are lacking in various degrees, as they often
are, little progress will be made. If the student is studying merely for
"society purposes," not much can be expected until that mental attitude
is changed. Students always want to sing well, but they are not always
willing to make the sacrifice of time and effort; consequently they lack
concentration and slight their practice. Sometimes the thought uppermost
in the student's mind is the exaltation of the ego, in other words,
fame. Sometimes he measures his efforts by the amount of money he thinks
he may ultimately earn, be it great or small. Sometimes he overestimates
himself, or what is equally bad, underestimates himself. It is a very
common thing to find him putting limitations on himself and telling of
the few things he will be able to do and the large number he never will
be able to do, thus effectually barring his progress. Then there is
always the one who is habitually late. She feels sure that all of the
forces of nature are leagued in a conspiracy to prevent her from ever
being on time anywhere. She, therefore, is guiltless. There is another
one who is a riot of excuses, apologies and reasons why she has not been
able to practice. Her home and neighborhood seem to be the special
object of providential displeasure, which is manifested in an unbroken
series of calamitous visitations ranging from croup to bubonic plague,
each one making vocal practice a physical and moral impossibility.

All of these things are habits of mind which must be corrected by the
teacher before satisfactory growth may be expected. In fact he must
devote no inconsiderable part of his time to setting students right on
things which in themselves are no part of music, but which are elements
of character without which permanent success is impossible.

A great musical gift is of no value unless it is protected by those
elements of character which are in themselves fundamentally right.
Innumerable instances could be cited of gifted men and women who have
failed utterly because their gifts were not protected by honesty,
industry and perseverance.

I have spoken at some length of the importance of the right mental
attitude toward study and the necessity of correcting false conceptions.
Continuing, it must be understood that the work of the teacher is all
that of training the mind of his student. It is developing concepts and
habits of mind which when exercised result in beautiful tone and
artistic singing. It must also be understood that the teacher does not
look at the voice, he listens to it. Here voice teachers automatically
separate themselves from each other. No two things so diametrically
opposite as physics and metaphysics can abide peaceably in the same
tent.

Let me emphasize the statement that _the teacher does not look at the
voice, he listens to it_. The teacher who bases his teaching on what he
can see, that is, on watching the singer and detecting his mistakes
through the eye, is engaged in an activity that is mechanical, not
musical. No one can tell from observation alone whether a tone is
properly produced. A tone is something to hear, not something to see,
and no amount of seeing will exert any beneficial influence on one's
hearing.

The process of learning to read vocal music at sight is that of learning
to _think tones_, to _think in the key_, and to _think all manner of
intervals and rhythmic forms_. It is altogether mental, and it is no
less absurd to hold that a knowledge of anatomy is necessary to this
than it is essential to the solution of a mathematical problem. The
formation of tone quality is no less a mental process than is thinking
the pitch. If the student sings a wrong pitch it is because he has
thought a wrong pitch, and this is true to a large extent at least, if
his tone quality in not good. He may at least be sure of this, that _he
never will sing a better tone than the one he thinks_.

A large part of the vocal teacher's training should be learning how to
listen and what to listen for. This means training the ear, which is the
mind, until it is in the highest degree sensitive to tone quality as
well as to pitch. When there is a failure in voice training it may be
counted upon that the teacher's listening faculty is defective. The gist
of the whole thing is what the teacher's ear will stand for. If a tone
does not offend his ear he will allow it to continue. If it does offend
his ear he will take measures to stop it.

More is known of vocal mechanism today than at any other time in the
world's history, and yet who dares to say that voice teaching has been
improved by it? Is voice teaching any more accurate now than it was a
hundred years ago? Did the invention of the laryngoscope add anything of
value to the voice teacher's equipment? No. Even the inventor of it said
that all it did was to confirm what he had always believed. An enlarged
mechanical knowledge has availed nothing in the studio. The character of
the teacher's work has improved to the degree in which he has recognized
two facts--first, the necessity of developing his own artistic sense as
well as that of his pupil, second, that the process of learning to sing
is psychologic rather than physiologic.

When the student takes his first singing lesson what does the teacher
hear? He hears the tone the student sings, but what is far more
important, he hears in his own mind the tone the student ought to sing.
He hears his own tone concept and this is the standard he sets for the
student. He cannot demand of him anything beyond his own concept either
in tone quality or interpretation.

Young teachers and some old ones watch the voice rather than listen to
it. At the slightest deviation from their standard of what the tongue,
larynx, and soft palate ought to do they pounce upon the student and
insist that he make the offending organ assume the position and form
which they think is necessary to produce a good tone. This results in
trying to control the mechanism by direct effort which always induces
tension and produces a hard, unsympathetic tone.

The blunder here is in mistaking effect for cause. The tongue which
habitually rises and fills the cavity of the mouth does so in response
to a wrong mental concept of cause. The only way to correct this
condition is to change the cause. The rigid tongue we see is effect, and
to tinker with the effect while the cause remains is unnecessarily
stupid. An impulse of tension has been directed to the tongue so often
that the impulse and response have become simultaneous and automatic.
The correction lies in directing an impulse of relaxation to it. When it
responds to this impulse it will be found to be lying in the bottom of
the mouth, relaxed, and ready to respond to any demand that may be made
upon it. To try to make the tongue lie in the bottom of the mouth by
direct effort while it is filled with tension is like trying to sweep
back the tide with a broom. The only way to keep the tide from flowing
is to find out what causes it to flow and remove the cause. The only way
to correct faulty action of any part of the vocal mechanism is to go
back into mentality and remove the cause. It will always be found there.


DIRECT AND INDIRECT CONTROL

In view of the generally understood nature of involuntary action and the
extent to which it obtains in all good singing it is difficult to
understand why any teacher should work from the basis of direct control.
It is a fact, however, that teachers who have not the psychological
vision find it difficult to work with a thing they cannot see. To such,
direct control seems to be the normal and scientific method of
procedure.

Let me illustrate: A student comes for his first lesson. I "try his
voice." His tone is harsh, white, throaty and unsympathetic. It is not
the singing tone and I tell him it is "all wrong." He does not
contradict me but places himself on the defensive and awaits
developments. I question him to find out what he thinks of his own
voice, how it impresses him, etc. I find it makes no impression on him
because he has no standard. He says he doesn't know whether he ought to
like his voice or not, but rather supposes he should not. As I watch him
I discover many things that are wrong and I make a mental note of them.
Suppose I say to him as a very celebrated European teacher once said to
me: "Take a breath, and concentrate your mind on the nine little muscles
in the throat that control the tone." This is asking a good deal when he
does not know the name or the exact location of a single one of them,
but he seems impressed, although a little perplexed, and to make it
easier for him I say as another famous teacher once said to me: "Open
your mouth, put two fingers and a thumb between your teeth, yawn, now
sing _ah_." He makes a convulsive effort and the tone is a trifle worse
than it was before. I say to him, "Your larynx is too high, and it jumps
up at the beginning of each tone. You must keep it down. It is
impossible to produce good tone with a high larynx. When the larynx
rises, the throat closes and you must always have your throat open.
Don't forget, your throat must be _open_ and you can get it open only by
keeping the larynx low." He tries again with the same result and awaits
further instructions. I take another tack and say to him, "Your tongue
rises every time you sing and impairs the form of the vocal cavity. Keep
it down below the level of the teeth, otherwise your vowels will be
imperfect. You should practice a half hour each day grooving your
tongue." I say these things impressively and take the opportunity to
tell him some interesting scientific facts about fundamental and upper
partials, and how different combinations produce different vowels, also
how these combinations are affected by different forms of the vocal
cavities, leading up to the great scientific truth that he must hold the
tongue down and the throat open in order that these great laws of
acoustics may become operative. He seems very humble in the presence of
such profound erudition and makes several unsuccessful attempts to do
what I tell him, but his tone is no better. I tell him so, for I do not
wish to mislead him. He is beginning to look helpless and discouraged
but waits to see what I will do next. He vexes me not a little, because
I feel that anything so simple and yet so scientific as the exercises I
am giving him ought to be grasped and put into practice at once; but I
still have resources, and I say to him, "Bring the tone forward, direct
it against the hard palate just above the upper teeth, send it up
through the head with a vigorous impulse of the diaphragm. You must
always feels the tone in the nasal cavities. That is the way you can
tell whether your tone is right or not." He tries to do these things,
but of necessity fails.

This sort of thing goes on with mechanical instructions for raising the
soft palate, making the diaphragm rigid, grooving the tongue, etc.,
etc., and at the end of the lesson I tell him to go home and practice an
hour a day on what I have given him. If he obeys my instructions he will
return in worse condition, for he will be strengthening the bad habits
he already has and forming others equally pernicious.

This is a sample of teaching by direct control. It is not overdrawn. It
is a chapter from real life, and I was the victim.

You will have observed that this lesson was devoted to teaching the
student how to do certain things with the vocal mechanism. The real
thing, the tone, the result at which all teaching should aim was placed
in the background. It was equivalent to trying to teach him to do
something but not letting him know what. It was training the body, not
the mind, and the result was what invariably happens when this plan is
followed.

In the lesson given above no attempt was made to give the student a
correct mental picture of a tone, and yet this is the most important
thing for him to learn, for _he never will sing a pure tone until he has
a definite mental picture of it_. _A tone is something to hear and the
singer himself must hear it before he can sing it._

Not one of the suggestions made to this student could be of any possible
benefit to him at the time. Not even the sensation of feeling the tone
in the head can be relied upon, for physical sensations are altogether
uncertain and unreliable. As I have observed in numberless instances,
there may be a sensation in the head when there are disagreeable
elements in the tone. If the ear of the teacher does not tell him when
the tone is good and when it is bad he is hopeless. If his ear is
reliable, why resort to a physical sensation as a means of deciding? In
the properly produced voice there is a feeling of vibration in the head
cavities, especially in the upper part of the voice, but that alone is
not a guaranty of good tone.

This teaching from the standpoint of sensation and direct control will
never produce a great singer so long as man inhabits a body. It is
working from the wrong end of the proposition. Control of the mechanism
is a very simple matter when the mental concept is formed. It is then
only a question of learning how to relax, how to free the mechanism of
tension, and the response becomes automatic.

Is there no way out of this maze of mechanical uncertainties? There is.
Is voice culture a sort of catch-as-catch-can with the probabilities a
hundred to one against success? It is not. Is singing a lost art? It is
not. Let us get away from fad, fancy and formula and see the thing as it
is. The problem is psychologic rather than physiologic. The fact that
one may learn all that can be known about physiology and still know
nothing whatever about voice training should awaken us to its
uselessness.

Man is a mental entity. When I speak to a student _it is his mind that
hears, not his body_. It is his mind that acts. It is his mind that
originates and controls action. Therefore it is his mind that must be
trained.

Action is not in the body. In fact, the body as matter has no sensation.
Remove mind from the body and it does not feel. It is the mind that
feels. If you believe that the body feels you must be prepared to
explain where in the process of digestion and assimilation the beefsteak
and potato you ate for dinner become conscious, because to feel they
must be conscious. We know that the fluids and solids composing the body
have no sensation when they are taken into the body, nor do they ever
become sentient. Therefore the body of itself has no initiative, no
action, no control. All of these are the functions of mind, hence the
incongruity of attempting to solve a problem which is altogether
psychological, which demands qualities of mind, habits of mind, mental
concepts of a particular kind and quality, by a process of manipulation
of the organ through which mind expresses itself, making the training of
the mind a secondary matter; and then absurdly calling it scientific.

In every form of activity two things are involved: first, the idea:
second, its expression. It must be apparent then, that the quality of
the thing expressed will be governed by the quality of the idea. Or, to
put it in another way: In the activity of art two things are
involved--subject-matter and technic. The subject-matter, the substance
of art, is mental. Technic is gaining such control of the medium that
the subject-matter, or idea, may be fully and perfectly expressed. Ideas
are the only substantial things in the universe, and that there is a
difference in the quality of ideas need not be argued. Two men of the
same avoirdupois may be walking side by side on the street, but one of
them may be a genius and the other a hod carrier.

I have dwelt at some length on this because I wish to show where the
training of a singer must begin, and that when we understand the real
nature of the problem its solution becomes simple.


INDIRECT CONTROL

What is meant by indirect control? It means, in short, the automatic
response of the mechanism to the idea. By way of illustration. If I
should ask my pupil to make her vocal cords vibrate at the rate of 435
times per second she could not do it because she would have no mental
concept of how it should sound: but if I strike the A above middle C and
ask her to sing it her vocal cords respond automatically at that rate of
vibration. It is the concept of pitch which forms the vocal instrument,
gives it the exact amount of tension necessary to vibrate at the rate of
the pitch desired, but the action is automatic, not the result of direct
effort.

It may be said that in artistic singing everything is working
automatically. There can be no such thing as artistic singing until
everything involved is responding automatically to the mental demands of
the singer.

Mention has been made of the automatic response of the vocal cords to
the thought of pitch. That part of the mechanism which is so largely
responsible for tone quality, the pharynx and mouth, must respond in the
same way. This it will do unerringly if it is free from tension. But if
the throat is full of rigidity, as is so often the condition, it cannot
respond; consequently the quality is imperfect and the tone is throaty.
The vocal cavity must vibrate in sympathy with the pitch in order to
create pure resonance. It can do this only when it is free and is
responding automatically to the concept of tone quality. To form the
mouth and throat by direct effort and expect a good tone to result
thereby, is an action not only certain of failure but exceedingly
stupid.


VOICE TRAINING IS SIMPLE

There is a belief amounting to a solid conviction in the public mind
that the training of the voice is so difficult that the probabilities of
success are about one in ten. What is responsible for this? Doubtless
the large number of failures. But this calls for another interrogation.
What is the cause of these failures? Here is one. All students have done
more or less singing before they go to a teacher. During that time they
have, with scarcely an exception, formed bad habits. Now bad habits of
voice production are almost invariably some form of throat interference,
referred to as tension, rigidity, resistance, etc. Instances without
number could be cited where students have been told to keep right on
singing and eventually they would outgrow these habits. Such a thing
never happened since time began. One may as well tell a drunkard to keep
on drinking and eventually he will outgrow the habit. No. Something
definite and specific must be done. The antidote for tension is
relaxation. A muscle cannot respond while it is rigid, therefore the
student must be taught how to get rid of tension.


TWO THINGS INVOLVED

There is nothing in voice training that is necessarily mysterious and
inscrutable. On the contrary, if one will acquaint himself with its
fundamental principles he will find that the truth about voice training,
like all truth, is simple and easily understood, and when understood the
element of uncertainty is eliminated. These principles are few in
number, in fact they may all be brought under two general heads. The
first is =KNOW WHAT YOU WANT=. The second is =HAVE THE CONDITIONS
RIGHT=. The meaning of these statements can never be learned from a
study of vocal physiology; nevertheless they contain all of the law and
the prophets on this subject. Any musician may be a successful teacher
of singing if he will master them. I use the word _musician_ advisedly,
because musical sense is of such vital importance that no amount of
mechanical knowledge can take its place. To undertake the training of
voices with only a mechanical knowledge of the subject is a handicap
which no one can overcome.

It is universally true that the less one knows of the art of singing the
more he concerns himself with the mechanism; and it is also true that
the more one is filled with the spirit of song the less he concerns
himself with the construction of the vocal instrument. People with
little or no musicianship have been known to wrangle ceaselessly on
whether or not the thyroid cartilage should tip forward on high tones.
It is such crude mechanics masquerading under the name of science that
has brought voice training into general disrepute. The voice teacher is
primarily concerned with learning to play upon the vocal instrument
rather than upon its mechanical construction, two things which some find
difficulty in separating.


KNOW WHAT YOU WANT

This means much. In voice production it means the perfect tone concept.
It means far more than knowing what one likes. What one likes and what
he ought to like are usually quite different things. What one likes is
the measure of his taste at that particular time and may or may not be
an argument in its favor. I have never seen a beginner whose taste was
perfectly formed, but the great majority of them know what they like,
and because they like a certain kind of tone, or a certain way of
singing, they take it for granted that it is right until they are shown
something better. This error is by no means confined to beginners.

If your pupil does not produce good tone one of two things is
responsible for it. Either he does not know a good tone or else the
conditions are not right. In the beginning it is usually both. Your
pupil must create his tone mentally before he sings it. He must create
its quality no less than its pitch. In other words _he must hear his
tone before he sings it and then sing what he hears_. Until he can do
this his voice will have no character. His voice will be as indefinite
as his tone concept, and it will not improve until his concept, which is
his taste, improves. Inasmuch as everything exists first as idea, it
follows that everything which is included in the rightly produced voice
and in interpretation are first matters of concept. The singer uses a
certain tone quality because he mentally conceives that quality to be
right. He delivers a word or phrase in a certain way because that is his
concept of it.

A word at this point on imitation. One faculty of a musical mind is that
of recording mentally what it hears and of producing it mentally
whenever desired. Most people possess this in some degree, and some
people in a marked degree. Almost any one can hear mentally the tone of
a cornet, violin, or any instrument with which he is acquainted. In the
same way the vocal student must hear mentally the pure singing tone
before he can sing it. It is the business of the teacher to assist him
in forming a perfect tone concept, and if he can do this by example, as
well as by precept, he has a distinct advantage over the one who cannot.

Arguments against imitation are not uncommon, and yet the teachers who
offer them will advise their students to hear the great singers as often
as possible. Such incongruities do not inspire confidence.

On this human plane most things are learned by imitation. What language
would the child speak if it were never allowed to hear spoken language?
It would never be anything but

  "An infant crying in the night.
  And with no language but a cry."

There are but few original thinkers on earth at any one time. The rest
are imitators and none too perfect at that. We are imitators in
everything from religion to breakfast foods. Few of us ever have an
original idea. We trail along from fifty to a hundred years behind those
we are trying to imitate.

When there is little else but imitation going on in the world why deny
it to vocal students? The argument against imitation can come from but
two classes of people--those who cannot produce a good tone and those
who are more interested in how the tone is made than in the tone itself.

The following are the qualities the teacher undertakes to develop in the
student in preparing him for artistic singing. They are fundamental and
must be a part of the singer's equipment no matter what method is
employed. They are what all musicians expect to hear in the trained
singer. They all exist first as concepts.

An even scale from top to bottom of the voice.

Every tone full of strength and character.

A sympathetic quality.

Ample power.

A clear, telling resonance in every tone.

A pure legato and sostenuto.

Perfect freedom in production throughout the compass.

A perfect swell, that is, the ability to go from pianissimo to full
voice and return, on any tone in the compass, without a break, and
without sacrificing the tone quality.

The ability to pronounce distinctly and with ease to the top of the
compass.

Equal freedom in the delivery of vowels and consonants.

Sufficient flexibility to meet all technical demands.

An ear sensitive to the finest shades of intonation.

An artistic concept or interpretive sense of the highest possible order.

The process of acquiring these things is not accretion but _unfoldment_.
It is the unfoldment of ideas or concepts. The growth of ideas is
similar to that of plants and flowers. The growth of expression follows
the growth of the idea, it never precedes it. From the formation of the
first vowel to the perfect interpretation of a song the teacher is
dealing with mental concepts.

At the Gobelin Tapestry works near Paris I was told that the weavers of
those wonderful tapestries use twenty-four shades of each color, and
that their color sense becomes so acute that they readily recognize all
of the different shades. Now there are about as many shades of each
vowel, and the mental picture of the vowel must be so definite, the
mental ear so sensitive, that it will detect the slightest variation
from the perfect form. Direct control could never accomplish this. Only
the automatic response of the mechanism to the perfect vowel concept can
result in a perfect vowel.

All of those qualities and elements mentioned above as constituting the
artist come under the heading =KNOW WHAT YOU WANT=.

The second step =HAVE THE CONDITIONS RIGHT= means, in short, to free the
mechanism of all interference and properly manage the breath. This
getting rid of interference could be talked about indefinitely without
wasting time. It is far more important than most people suspect. Few
voices are entirely free from it, and when it is present in a marked
degree it is an effectual bar to progress. So long as it is present in
the slightest degree it affects the tone quality. Most students think
they are through with it long before they are.

This interference, which is referred to as tension, rigidity,
throatiness, etc., is in the nature of resistance to the free emission
of tone. It is not always confined to the vocal cords, but usually
extends to the walls of the pharynx and the body of the tongue. The
vocal cavities, the pharynx and mouth, exert such a marked influence on
tone quality that the least degree of rigidity produces an effect that
is instantly noticeable to the trained ear. These parts of the vocal
mechanism which are so largely responsible not only for perfect vowels,
but for perfect tone quality as well, must at all times be so free from
tension that they can respond instantly to the tone concept. If they
fail to respond the tone will be imperfect, and these imperfections are
all classed under the general head "throaty." Throaty tone means that
there is resistance somewhere, and the conditions will never be right
until the last vestige of it is destroyed. The difficulty in voice
placing which so many have, lies in trying to produce the upper tones
without first getting rid of resistance. This condition is responsible
for a number of shop-worn statements, such as "bring the tone forward,"
"place the tone in the head," "direct the tone into the head," etc. I
recall a writer who says that the column of breath must be directed
against the hard palate toward the front of the mouth in order to get a
resonant tone. Consider this a moment. When the breath is properly
vocalized its power is completely destroyed. Any one may test this by
vocalizing in an atmosphere cold enough to condense the moisture in his
breath. If he is vocalizing perfectly, he will observe that the breath
moves lazily out of the mouth and curls upward not more than an inch
from the face. The idea that this breath, which has not a particle of
force after leaving the vocal cords, can be directed against the hard
palate with an impact sufficient to affect tone quality is the limit of
absurdity. If the writer had spoken of directing the sound waves to the
front of the mouth there would have been an element of reasonableness in
it, for sound waves can be reflected as well as light waves; but breath
and sound are quite different things.

What does the teacher mean when he tells the pupil to place the tone in
the head? He doubtless means that the student shall call into use the
upper resonator. If one holds a vibrating tuning-fork before a
resonating tube, does he direct the vibrations into that resonating
cavity? No. Neither is it necessary to try to drive the voice into the
cavities of the head. Such instructions are of doubtful value. They are
almost sure to result in a hard unsympathetic tone. They increase rather
than diminish the resistance. The only possible way to place the tone in
the head is to let it go there. This will always occur when the
resistance is destroyed and the channel is free.

In numerous instances the resistance in the vocal cords is so great that
it is impossible to sing softly, or with half voice. It requires so much
breath pressure to start the vibration, that is, to overcome the
resistance, that when it does start it is with full voice. In a majority
of male voices the upper tone must be taken either with full chest voice
or with falsetto. There is no _mezza voce_. This condition is abnormal
and is responsible for the "red in the face" brand of voice production
so often heard.

Of this we may be sure, that no one can sing a good full tone unless he
can sing a good _mezza voce_. When the mechanism is sufficiently free
from resistance that a good pianissimo can be sung then the conditions
are right to begin to build toward a _forte_.

Further, when the mechanism is entirely free from resistance there is no
conscious effort required to produce tone. The singer has the feeling of
letting himself sing rather than of making himself sing.

The engineer of a great pumping station once told me that his mammoth
Corliss engine was so perfectly balanced that he could run it with ten
pounds of steam. When the voice is free, and resting on the breath as it
were, it seems to sing itself.

An illustration of the opposite condition, of extreme resistance was
once told me by the president of a great street railway system that was
operated by a cable. He said it required eighty-five per cent of the
power generated to start the machinery, that is, to overcome the
resistance, leaving but fifteen per cent for operating cars. It is not
at all uncommon to hear singers who are so filled with resistance that
it requires all of their available energy to make the vocal instrument
produce tone. Such singers soon find themselves exhausted and the voice
tired and husky. It is this type of voice production rather than
climatic conditions, that causes so much chronic laryngitis among
singers. I have seen the truth of this statement verified in the
complete and permanent disappearance of many cases of laryngitis through
learning to produce the voice correctly.

The second step in securing right conditions is the proper management of
the breath.


BREATH CONTROL

An extremist always lacks the sense of proportion. He allows a single
idea to fill his mental horizon. He is fanciful, and when an idea comes
to him he turns his high power imagination upon it, and it immediately
becomes overwhelming in magnitude and importance. Thereafter all things
in his universe revolve around it.

The field of voice teaching is well stocked with extremists. Everything
involved in voice production and many things that are not, have been
taken up one at a time and made the basis of a method.

One builds his reputation on a peculiar way of getting the tone into the
frontal sinuses by way of the infundibulum canal, and makes all other
things secondary.

Another has discovered a startling effect which a certain action of the
arytenoid cartilages has on registers, and sees a perfect voice as the
result.

Another has discovered that a particular movement of the thyroid
cartilage is the only proper way to tense the vocal cords and when every
one learns to do this all bad voices will disappear.

Another has discovered something in breath control so revolutionary in
its nature that it alone will solve all vocal problems.

Perhaps if all of these discoveries could be combined they might produce
something of value; but who will undertake it? Not the extremists
themselves, for they are barren of the synthetic idea, and their sense
of proportion is rudimentary. They would be scientists were it not for
their abnormal imaginations. The scientist takes the voice apart and
examines it in detail, but the voice teacher must put all parts of it
together and mold it into a perfect whole. The process is synthetic
rather than analytic, and undue emphasis on any one element destroys the
necessary balance.

The immediate danger of laying undue emphasis on any one idea in voice
training lies in its tendency toward the mechanical and away from the
spontaneous, automatic response so vitally necessary. Here the
extremists commit a fatal error. To make breath management the
all-in-all of singing invariably leads to direct control, and soon the
student has become so conscious of the mechanism of breathing that his
mind is never off of it while singing; he finds himself becoming rigid
trying to prevent his breath from escaping, and the more rigid he
becomes the less control he has. A large number of examples of this kind
of breath management have come under my observation. They all show the
evil results of over working an idea.

But the followers of "the-breath-is-the-whole-thing" idea say "You can't
sing without breath control." Solomon never said a truer thing, but the
plan just mentioned is the worst possible way to secure it.

Every one should know that not a single one of the processes of voice
production is right until it is working automatically, and automatic
action is the result of indirect, never of direct control.

The profession has become pretty thoroughly imbued with the idea that
deep breathing, known as abdominal, or diaphragmatic is the best for
purposes of singing. But how deep? The answer is, the deeper the better.
Here again it is easy to overstep the bounds. I have in mind numerous
instances where the singer, under the impression that he was practicing
deep breathing tried to control the breath with the lower abdominal
muscles, but no matter how great the effort made there was little tonal
response, for the reason that the pressure exerted was not against the
lungs but against the contents of the abdomen. The diaphragm is the
point of control. The lungs lie above it, not below it. To concentrate
the thought on the lower abdominal muscles means to lose control of the
diaphragm, the most important thing involved in breath management.

The process of breathing is simple. The lungs are enclosed in an air
tight box of which the diaphragm is the bottom. It rests under the lungs
like an inverted saucer. In the act of contracting it flattens toward a
plane and in so doing it moves downward and forward, away from the
lungs. The ribs move outward, forward and upward. The lungs which occupy
this box like a half compressed sponge follow the receding walls, and a
vacuum is created which air rushes in to fill. In exhalation the action
is reversed. The ribs press against the lungs and the diaphragm slowly
returns to its original position and the breath is forced out like
squeezing water out of a sponge.

The one important thing in breath management is the diaphragm. If the
student has the right action of the diaphragm he will have no further
trouble with breath control. In my Systematic Voice Training will be
found a list of exercises which thoroughly cover the subject of breath
control and if properly used will correct all errors. Let this be
understood, that there is nothing in correct breathing that should make
one tired. On the contrary the practice of breathing should leave one
refreshed. Above all, the student should never make himself rigid when
trying to control the flow of breath. This is not only of no advantage,
but will effectually defeat the end for which he is striving.


REGISTERS

In securing right conditions the teacher is often confronted with the
problem of registers. The literature on this subject is voluminous and
varied. Opinions are offered without stint and the number of registers
which have been discovered in the human voice ranges from none to an
indefinite number. How one scientist can see two, and another one five
registers in the same voice might be difficult to explain were it not a
well known fact that some people are better at "seeing things" than
others.

But here again the teacher soon learns that laboratory work is of little
value. His view point is so different from that of the physicist that
they can hardly be said to be working at the same problem. The physicist
tries to discover the action of the mechanism, in other words, how the
tone is made. The voice teacher is concerned primarily with how it
sounds. One is looking at the voice, the other is listening to it, which
things, be it known, are essentially and fundamentally different; so
different that their relationship is scarcely traceable. The ability to
train the voice comes through working with voices where the musical
sense, rather than the scientific sense, is the guide. It is a specific
knowledge which can be gained in no other way. It begins when one takes
an untrained voice and attempts to make it produce a musical tone.

The problem of registers is, in short, how to make an even scale out of
an uneven one. It must be solved in the studio. Anatomical knowledge is
of no avail. The teacher who has learned how to produce an even scale
possesses knowledge which is of more value to the student than all of
the books ever written on vocal mechanism.

The depressions in the voice known as "changes of register" result from
tension. With one adjustment of the vocal cords the singer can, by
adding tension, make a series of four or five tones, then by a change of
adjustment he can produce another similar series, and so on to the top
of his compass. These changes occur when there is such an accumulation
of tension that no more can be added to that adjustment without
discomfort. The solution of this problem lies in gaining such freedom
from tension in the vocal instrument that it automatically readjusts
itself for each tone. The tension is then evenly distributed throughout
the scale and the sudden changes disappear. This is precisely what
happens when the singer has learned to produce an even scale throughout
his compass; his voice production is not right until he can do this.

The statement is frequently made in public print that there are no
registers in the trained voice. This order of wisdom is equally
scintillating with that profound intellectual effort which avers that a
bald headed man has no hair on the top of his head, or that hot weather
is due to a rise in the temperature. These statements may be heavy-laden
with truth, but to the voice teacher they are irrelevant. His work is at
least seven-eighths with untrained voices. By the time he has worked out
an even scale with all of the other problems that go hand in hand with
it, for a great deal of the art of singing will naturally accompany it,
a large majority of his pupils are ready to move on. Only a small per
cent prepare for a musical career. Most of his work is with voices that
still need to be perfected. It is for voices of this kind that the
teacher lives. It is for such voices that vocal methods are evolved and
books written.

A lighthearted, easy going assurance is not sufficient alone to compass
the problems that present themselves in the studio. If the teacher is
conscientious there will be times when he will feel deeply the need of
something more than human wisdom. The work in the studio has more to do
with the future than with the immediate present. The singing lesson is a
small part of what the student carries with him. The atmosphere of the
studio, which is the real personality of the teacher, his ideals, aims,
the depth of his sincerity, in short, his concept of the meaning of
life, goes with the student and will be remembered when the lesson is
forgotten.




V

THE NATURE AND MEANING OF ART

    One function, then, of art is to feed and mature the imagination
    and the spirit, and thereby enhance and invigorate the whole of
    human life.

                      _Ancient Art and Ritual_. Jane Ellen Harrison.


A large percentage of the population of the civilized world has more or
less to do with what is called art. In its various forms art touches in
some degree practically the entire human race. Its various activities
have developed great industries, and for the entertainment it affords
fabulous sums of money are spent.

What is this thing called art which takes such a hold upon the human
race? If it has no social or economic value then a vast amount of time
and money are wasted each year in its study and practice. A brief
inquiry into the nature and meaning of art may well be associated with a
discussion of the art of singing.

Art as a whole comes under the head of Aesthetics, which may be defined
as the philosophy of taste, the science of the beautiful.

It will doubtless be admitted without argument that ever since the dawn
of consciousness the visible world has produced sense impressions
differing from each other--some pleasant, some unpleasant. From these
different sense impressions there gradually evolved what is known as
beauty and ugliness. An attempt to discover the principles underlying
beauty and ugliness resulted in Aesthetics, the founder of which was
Baumgarten (1714-1762).

It will be interesting to hear what he and the later aestheticians have
to say about art. Most of them connect it in some way with that which is
beautiful, that is, pleasing, but they do not all agree in their
definition of beauty.

Baumgarten defined beauty as the perfect, the absolute, recognized
through the senses. He held that the highest embodiment of beauty is
seen by us in nature, therefore the highest aim of art is to copy
nature.

Winkelmann (1717-1768) held the law and aim of art to be beauty
independent of goodness. Hutcheson (1694-1747) was of essentially the
same opinion.

According to Kant (1724-1804) beauty is that which pleases without the
reasoning process.

Schiller (1758-1805) held that the aim of art is beauty, the source of
which is pleasure without practical advantage.

These definitions do not wholly satisfy. They do not accord to art the
dignified position it should hold in social development. But there are
others who have a clearer vision. Fichte (1762-1814) said that beauty
exists not in the visible world but in the beautiful soul, and that art
is the manifestation of this beautiful soul, and that its aim is the
education of the whole man.

In this we begin to see the real nature and activity of art. There are
other aestheticians who define art in much the same way.

Shaftesbury (1670-1713) said that beauty is recognized by the mind only.
God is fundamental beauty.

Hegel (1770-1831) said: "Art is God manifesting himself in the form of
beauty. Beauty is the idea shining through matter. Art is a means of
bringing to consciousness and expressing the deepest problems of
humanity and the highest truths." According to Hegel beauty and truth
are one and the same thing.

Thus we see that the great thinkers of the world make art of supreme
importance in the perfecting of the human race. They all agree that art
is not in material objects, but is a condition and activity of spirit.
They agree in the main that beauty and truth emanate from the same
source. Said Keats:

  "Beauty is truth and truth beauty,
   That is all ye know on earth and all ye need know."

Said Schelling: "Beauty is the perception of the Infinite in the
finite."

But perhaps the highest concept of art is from the great artist
Whistler. He said: "Art is an expression of eternal absolute truth, and
starting from the Infinite it cannot progress, IT IS."

Art in some form and in some degree finds a response in every one. Why?
Because every one consciously or unconsciously is looking toward and
striving for perfection. This is the law of being. Every one is seeking
to improve his condition, and this means that in some degree every one
is an idealist. Ever since time began idealism has been at work, and to
it we owe every improved condition--social, political and religious.

Hegel believed that the aim of art is to portray nature in perfect form,
not with the imperfections seen around us; and Herbert Spencer defined
art as the attempt to realize the ideal in the present. The artist tries
to make his picture more perfect than what he sees around him. The poet,
the sculptor, the musician, the craftsman, the mechanic, are all
striving for a more perfect expression, because perfection is the
fundamental, eternal law of being.

Wagner said: "The world will be redeemed through art," and if Whistler's
definition be accepted he is not far from the truth.

The important thing to remember is that art is not a mere pastime, but a
great world force operating to lift mortals out of mortality. It is the
striving of the finite to reach the Infinite.

In human history art, no less than languages, has conformed to the
theory of evolution. Language in the beginning was monosyllabic. Far
back in the early dawn of the race, before the development of the
community spirit, when feelings, emotions, ideas, were simple and few
the medium of expression was simple, and it grew with the demand for a
larger expression.

This same process of evolution is seen in the growth of each individual.
The child, seeing grimalkin stalk stealthily into the room, points the
finger and says "cat." This is the complete expression of itself on that
subject. It is the sum total of its knowledge of zoology at that
particular moment; and a long process of development must follow before
it will refer to the same animal as a "Felis Domestica."

In a similar way musical expression keeps step with musical ideas. In
the beginning musical ideas were short, simple, fragmentary,
monosyllabic, mere germs of melody (adherents of the germ theory will
make a note of this). The Arab with his rudimentary fiddle will repeat
this fragment of melody [Illustration: Figure H] by the hour, while a
company of his unlaundered brethren dance, until exhausted, in dust to
their ankles, with the temperature near the boiling point. This musical
monosyllable is ample to satisfy his artistic craving. In other words it
is the complete musical expression of himself.

The following is a complete program of dance music for the aborigines of
Australia. [Illustration: Figure I] The repetition of this figure may
continue for hours. If it were inflicted on a metropolitan audience it
would result in justifiable homicide, but to the Australian it furnishes
just the emotional stimulus he desires.

[Illustration: Figure J] This one from Tongtoboo, played Allegro, would
set the heels of any company, ancient or modern, in motion.

These people may be said to be in the rhythmic stage of music, that is,
a stage of development in which a rhythmic movement which serves to
incite the dance furnishes complete artistic satisfaction.

As it is a long distance from the monosyllabic expression of the child
to the point where he can think consecutively in polysyllabic
dissertation, so it is an equally long distance from the inarticulate
musical utterances of the barbarous tribes to the endless melodies of
Wagner, which begin at 8 P. M. and continue until 12.15 A. M. without
repetition.

Following the course of music from the beginning we shall see that it
has kept pace with civilization. As the race has grown mentally it has
expressed itself in a larger and more perfect way in its literature, its
painting and music. Physically the race has not grown perceptibly in the
last five thousand years, but mentally its growth can scarcely be
measured. If we follow each nation through the past thousand years we
shall see that its art product has not only kept pace with its
development, but that in its art we may see all of its racial
characteristics, those habits of mind which are peculiarly its own. A
nation left to itself will develop a certain trend of thought which will
differentiate it from all other nations. A trend of thought which will
affect its art, literature, politics, religion, and in course of time
will produce marked physical characteristics. This is noticeable in all
nations which have lived long unto themselves.

But modern methods of communication are destroying this. As nations are
brought into closer contact with each other they begin to lose their
peculiarities. The truth of this statement may be seen in the fact that
in the past fifty years composers all over the world have been affected
by the modern German school of composition. Not one has escaped. While a
nation lived unto itself it could preserve its national life in its art,
but more and more the life of each nation is becoming a composite of the
life of all nations. The musical output of the world shows this
unmistakably.

What will be the music of the future? We know the music of yesterday and
today, but the music of the future can be foretold only by the prophet
whose vision is clear enough to see unmistakably what the trend of
civilization will be during the coming years. There are mighty forces
operating in the world today. If they succeed in bringing humanity to a
saner, more normal state of mind, to a clearer realization of what is
worth while and what is worthless, then all art will become purer and
more wholesome, more helpful and necessary, and music speaking a
language common to all will be supreme among the arts.




VI

SINGING AS AN ART

    No artist can be graceful, imaginative, or original, unless he
    be truthful.

                                          Ruskin. _Modern Painters_.


"Art is a transfer of feeling" said Tolstoy. While this applies to art
in general it has a particular application to the art of singing. The
material of the singer's art is feeling. By means of the imagination he
evokes within himself feelings he has experienced and through the medium
of his voice he transfers these feelings to others. By his ability to
reconstruct moods, feelings and emotions within himself and express them
through his voice, the singer sways multitudes, plays upon them, carries
them whithersoever he will from the depths of sorrow to the heights of
exaltation. His direct and constant aim is to make his hearers _feel_,
and feel deeply. As a medium for the transfer of feeling the human voice
far transcends all others. Since the beginning of the human race the
voice has been the means by which it has most completely revealed
itself, but the art is not in the voice, but in the feeling transferred.
It is the same whether the medium be the voice, painting, sculpture,
poetry or a musical instrument. We speak of a painting as being a great
work of art, but the art is not in the painting, the art is the feeling
of beauty which the painting awakes in the observer. When we listen to
an orchestra the music is what we feel. Said Walt Whitman: "Music is
what awakes within us when we are reminded by the instruments."

Nothing exists separate from cognition. Real art therefore consists of
pure feeling rather than of material objects. _If the singer succeeds in
transferring his feelings to others he is an artist_, this regardless of
whether his voice is great or small. Voice alone does not constitute an
artist. One must have something to give. Schumann said: "The reason the
nightingale sings love songs and the lap dog barks is because the soul
of the nightingale is filled with love and that of the lap dog with
bark." It will be apparent therefore, that the study of the art of
singing should devote itself to developing in the singer the best
elements of his nature--all that is good, pure and elevating. We have no
right to transfer to others any feeling that is impure or unwholesome.
The technic of an art is of small moment compared with its subject
matter. _An unworthy poem cannot be purified by setting it to music no
matter how beautiful the music may be._


THE PRINCIPLES OF INTERPRETATION

I fancy there is nothing more intangible to most people than the term
"_phrasing_." I have asked a great many students to give me the
principles of phrasing, but as yet I have seen none who could do it, and
yet all singers, from the youngest to the oldest must make some use of
these principles every time they sing. Now a thing in such general use
should be, and is, subject to analysis.

_All of the rules of phrasing, like the rules of composition, grow out
of what sounds well._ Beauty and ugliness are matters of mental
correspondence. In music a thing to be beautiful must satisfy a mental
demand, and this demand is one's _taste_. The sense of fitness must
obtain. When the singer interprets a song the demand of the listener is
that he shall do well what he undertakes to do: that he shall portray
whatever phase of life the song contains, accurately, definitely, that
he shall have a _definite intent and purpose_, that he shall be in the
mood of the song. The singer must not portray one mood with his face,
another with his voice, while the poem suggests still a third. He must
avoid incongruity. All things must work together. There must be
therefore, the evidence of intelligent design in every word and phrase.

The song is a unit and each phrase contains a definite idea, therefore
it must not be detached or fragmentary, but must have the element of
continuity and each and every part must be made to contribute to the
central idea.

The element of insecurity must not be allowed to enter. If it does, the
listener feels that the singer is not sure of himself, that he cannot do
what he set out to do: therefore he is a failure.

Another demand is that the singer shall be intelligent. A poem does not
lose its meaning or its strength by being associated with music, and to
this end the singer must deliver the text with the same understanding
and appreciation of its meaning as would a public reader.

Now from the above we infer certain principles. The demand for
continuity means that the singer must have a pure _legato_. That is, he
must be able to connect words smoothly, to pass from one word to another
without interrupting the tone, that the tone may be continuous
throughout each phrase.

The feeling of security lies in what is known as _sostenuto_, the
ability to sustain the tone throughout the phrase with no sense of
diminishing power. It means in short the organ time.

From the demand for design in each word and phrase comes _contrast_.
This may be made in the power of the tone by means of cres. dim. sfz. It
may be made in the tempo by means of the retard, accelerando, the hold,
etc. It may also be made in the quality of the tone by using the various
shades from bright to somber.

The basis of phrasing then, may be found in legato, sostenuto and
contrast. All of the other things involved in interpretation cannot make
a good performance if these fundamental principles be lacking. A more
complete outline of interpretation follows:


AN OUTLINE OF INTERPRETATION

             { Pitches
    READING  { Note Lengths
             { Rhythm

                              { Vowels
             { Enunciation    { Consonants
    DICTION  { Pronunciation
             { Accent
             { Emphasis

             { Even Scale
    VOICE    { Quality
             { Freedom
             { Breath Control

             { Attack
    TECHNIC  { Flexibility
             { Execution

             { Legato
    PHRASING { Sostenuto
                           { Power
             { Contrast    { Tempo
                           { Color
             { Proportion


             { Emotional Concept
    MOOD     { Facial Expression
             { Stage Presence

Most of the things mentioned in this outline of interpretation have been
discussed elsewhere, but the subject of diction requires further
explanation.


DICTION

The mechanism of speech might be discussed at any length, but to reduce
it to its simplest form it consists of the sound producing
instrument,--the vocal cords, the organs of enunciation--lips, tongue,
teeth and soft palate, and the channel leading to the outer air. When
the vocal cords are producing pitch and the channel is free the result
is a vowel. If an obstruction is thrown into the channel the result is a
consonant. Vowels and consonants, then, constitute the elements of
speech. The vowels are the emotional elements and the consonants are the
intellectual elements. By means of vowel sounds alone emotions may be
awakened, but when definite ideas are expressed, words which are a
combination of vowels and consonants must be used. It is nothing short
of amazing that with this simple mechanism, by using the various
combinations of open and obstructed channel in connection with pitch,
the entire English language or any other language for that matter can be
produced.

Vowels are produced with an open channel from the vocal cords to the
outer air. Consonants are produced by partial or complete closing of the
channel by interference of the lips, tongue, teeth and soft palate.

If language consisted entirely of vowels learning to sing would be much
simpler than it is. It is the consonants that cause trouble. It is not
uncommon to find students who can vocalize with comparative ease, but
the moment they attempt to sing words the mechanism becomes rigid. The
tendency toward rigidity is much greater in enunciating consonants than
it is in enunciating vowels, and yet they should be equally easy. Here
is where the student finds his greatest difficulty in mastering English
diction.

The most frequent criticism of American singers is their deficiency in
diction. Whether it please us or no, it must be admitted that on the
whole the criticism is not without foundation.

The importance of effective speech is much underestimated by students of
singing, and yet it requires but a moment's consideration to see that
the impression created by speech is the result of forceful diction no
less than of subject matter. Words mean the same thing whether spoken or
sung, and the singer no less than the speaker should deliver them with a
full understanding of their meaning.

The proposition confronting the singer is a difficult one. When he
attempts the dramatic he finds that it destroys his legato. He loses the
sustained quality of the organ tone, which is the true singing tone, and
_bel canto_ is out of the question.

This is what is urged against the operas of Wagner and practically
everything of the German school since his day. The dramatic element is
so intense and the demand so strenuous that singers find it almost, if
not quite impossible, to keep the singing tone and reach the dramatic
heights required. They soon find themselves shouting in a way that not
only destroys the singing tone but also the organ that produces it. The
truth of this cannot be gainsaid. There is a considerable amount of
vocal wreckage strewn along the way, the result of wrestling with
Wagnerian recitative. Wagnerian singers are, as a rule, vocally shorter
lived than those that confine themselves to French and Italian opera.

But it will be argued by some that these people have not learned how to
sing, that if they had a perfect vocal method they could sing Wagner as
easily as Massenet. That they have not learned to sing Wagner is
evident, and this brings us to the question--Shall the singer adjust
himself to the composer or the composer to the singer? A discussion of
this would probably lead nowhere, but I submit the observation, that
many modern composers show a disregard for the possibilities and
limitations of the human voice that amounts to stupidity. Because a
composer can write great symphonies the public is inclined to think that
everything he writes is great. Let it be understood once for all that
bad voice writing is bad whether it is done by a symphonic writer or a
popular songwriter. In the present stage of human development there are
certain things the voice can do and other things it cannot do, and these
things can be known only by those who understand the voice, and are
accustomed to working with it. To ignore them completely when writing
for voices is no evidence of genius. Composers seem to forget that the
singer must create the pitch of his instrument as well as its quality at
the moment he uses it. They also forget that his most important aid in
this is the feeling of tonality. When this is destroyed and the singer
is forced to measure intervals abstractedly he is called upon to do
something immeasurably more difficult than anything that is asked of the
instrumentalist. Many modern composers have lost their heads and run
amuck on the modern idiom, and their writing for voices is so complex
that it would require a greater musician to sing their music than it did
to write it.

But to return, I do not say that it is impossible to apply the
principles of _bel canto_ to Wagner's dramatic style of utterance. On
the contrary I believe it is possible to gain such a mastery of voice
production and enunciation that the Wagnerian roles may be sung, not
shouted, and still not be lacking in dramatic intensity, but it requires
a more careful study of diction and its relation to voice production
than most singers are willing to make.

A majority of singers never succeed in establishing the right relation
between the vocal organ and the organs of enunciation. Years of
experience have verified this beyond peradventure.

It is a very common thing for singers to vocalize for an indefinite
period with no ill effect, but become hoarse with ten minutes of
singing. The reason is apparent. They have learned how to produce vowels
with a free throat but not consonants. The moment they attempt to form a
consonant, tension appears, not only in those parts of the mechanism
which form the consonant, but in the vocal organ as well. Under such
treatment the voice soon begins to show wear, and this is exactly what
happens to those singers who find it difficult to sing the Wagner
operas.

The solution of this problem lies in the proper study of diction. The
intellectual elements of speech consonants are formed almost entirely in
the front of the mouth with various combinations of lips, tongue and
teeth. Three things are necessary to their complete mastery.

=First,=--consonants must be produced without tension. It will be well
to remember in this connection that consonants are not to be sung. They
are points of interference and must be distinct but short. The principle
of freedom applies to consonants no less than to vowels.

=Second,=--consonants must not be allowed to interrupt the continuity of
the pitch produced by the vocal cords. This is necessary to preserve
legato. Some consonants close the channel completely, others only
partially. It is a great achievement to be able to sing all consonant
combinations and still preserve a legato.

=Third,=--consonants must in no way interfere with the freedom of the
vocal organ. If the student attempts to sing the consonants, that is, to
prolong them he is sure to make his throat rigid and the pure singing
tone at once disappears. He must therefore learn dramatic utterance
without throwing the weight of it on the throat. To do this he must
begin with a consonant which offers the least resistance and practice it
until the three points mentioned have been mastered. The one which will
give the least trouble is l. At the pitch G sing ah-lah-lah-lah-lah,
until it can be done with relaxed tongue, with perfect continuity of
tone, and with perfect freedom in the vocal instrument. In the same way
practice n, d, v, th, m, and the sub vocals, b, d, g. Always begin with
a vowel.

If the singer has the patience to work the problem out in this way he
can apply the principles of _bel canto_ to dramatic singing. The road to
this achievement is long, longer than most people suspect, but if one is
industrious and persevering it may be accomplished.

But there remains yet to be mentioned the most important element of
artistic singing. To the pure tone and perfect diction must be added the
imagination. The _imagination_ is the image making power of the mind,
the power to create or reproduce ideally that which has been previously
perceived: the power to call up mental images. By means of the
imagination we take the materials of experience and mold them into
idealized forms. The aim of creative art is to idealize, that is, to
portray nature and experience in perfect forms not with the
imperfections of visible nature. "In this" says Hegel, "art is superior
to nature."

The activity of the imagination is directly responsible for that most
essential thing--emotional tone. Taking intelligence for granted, the
imagination is the most important factor involved in interpretation. If
the imagination be quick and responsive it will carry the singer away
from himself and temporarily he will live the song.

Every song has an atmosphere, a metaphysical something which
differentiates it from every other song. The singer must discover it and
find the mood which will perfectly express it. If his imagination
constructs the image, creates the picture, recalls the feeling, the
emotion, the result will be artistic singing. The song is that which
comes from the soul of the singer. It is not on the printed page. If I
study a Schubert song until I have mastered it, I have done nothing to
Schubert. It is I who have grown. Through the activity of the
imagination, guided by the intelligence, I have built up in my
consciousness as nearly as possible what I conceive to have been
Schubert's feeling when he wrote the song, but the work has all been
done on myself.

A chapter might be written on the artistic personality. It reveals
itself in light, shade, nuance, inflection, accent, color, always with a
perfect sense of proportion, harmony and unity, and free from all that
is earthy. It is the expression of individuality. It cannot be imitated.
If you ask me for its source I repeat again Whistler's immortal saying:
"Art is an expression of eternal, absolute truth, and starting from the
Infinite it cannot progress, =IT IS=."




VII

THE CONSTRUCTION OF A SONG.

    Has he put the emphasis on his work in the place where it is
    most important? Has he so completely expressed himself that the
    onlooker cannot fail to find his meaning?

                                   _Appreciation of Art_. Loveridge.


When you listen to a song and at its close say, "That is beautiful," do
you ever stop and try to discover why it is beautiful? The quest may
lead you far into the field of Aesthetics, and unless you are accustomed
to psychological processes you may find yourself in a maze from which
escape is difficult. Let us remember that in studying the construction
of a song we are dealing with states of mind. A song is the product of a
certain mood and its direct aim is to awaken a similar mood in others.

It is a well established fact that sound is the most common and the most
effective way of expressing and communicating the emotions, not only for
man but for the lower animals as well. This method of communication
doubtless began far back in the history of the race and was used to
express bodily pain or pleasure.

The lower animals convey their feelings to each other by sounds, not by
words, and these sounds awaken in others the same feeling as that which
produced them.

We see, then, that emotion may be expressed by sound and be awakened by
sound, and this obtains among human beings no less than among the lower
animals. In the long process of ages sound qualities have become
indissolubly associated with emotional states, and have become the most
exciting, the most powerful sense stimulus in producing emotional
reactions. The cry of one human being in pain will excite painful
emotions in another. An exclamation of joy will excite a similar emotion
in others, and so on through the whole range of human emotions.

Herbert Spencer holds that the beginning of music may be traced back to
the cry of animals, which evidently has an emotional origin and purpose.
It is a far cry from the beginning of music as described by Spencer to
the modern art song, but from that time to this the principle has
remained the same. The emotional range of the lower animals is small,
doubtless limited to the expression of bodily conditions, but the human
race through long ages of growth has developed an almost unlimited
emotional range, hence the vehicle for its expression has of necessity
increased in complexity.

To meet this demand music as a science has evolved a tone system. That
is, from the infinite number of tones it has selected something over a
hundred having definite mathematical relationships, fixed vibrational
ratios. The art of music takes this system of tones and by means of
combinations, progressions and movements which constitute what is called
musical composition, it undertakes to excite a wide variety of emotions.

The aim and office of music is to create moods. It does not arrive at
definite expression. There is no musical progression which is
universally understood as an invitation to one's neighbor to pass the
bread. The pianist cannot by any particular tone combination make his
audience understand that his left shoe pinches, but he can make them
smile or look serious. He can fill them with courage or bring them to
tears without saying a word. In listening to the Bach _B Minor Mass_ one
can tell the _Sanctus_ from the _Gloria in Excelsis_ without knowing a
word of Latin. The music conveys the mood unmistakably.

A song is a union of music and poetry, a wedding if you please and as in
all matrimonial alliances the two contracting parties should be in
harmony. The poem creates a mood not alone by what it expresses directly
but by what it implies, what it suggests. Its office is to stimulate the
imagination rather than to inform by direct statement of facts. The
office of music is to strengthen, accentuate, and supplement the mood of
the poem, to translate the poem into music. The best song then, will be
one in which both words and music most perfectly create the same mood.

Arnold Bennett's definition of literature applies equally well to the
song. He says: "That evening when you went for a walk with your faithful
friend, the friend from whom you hid nothing--or almost nothing--you
were, in truth, somewhat inclined to hide from him the particular matter
which monopolized your mind that evening, but somehow you contrived to
get on to it, drawn by an overpowering fascination. And as your faithful
friend was sympathetic and discreet, and flattered you by a respectful
curiosity, you proceeded further and further into the said matter,
growing more and more confidential, until at last you cried out in a
terrific whisper: 'My boy she is simply miraculous:' At that moment you
were in the domain of literature." Now when such impassioned,
spontaneous utterance is brought under the operation of musical law we
have a perfect song. The composer furnished the words and music, but the
thing which makes it a song comes from the singer, from the earnestness
and conviction with which he delivers the message.

Songs are divided into two general classes: those expressing the
relationships of human beings, such as love, joy, sorrow, chivalry,
patriotism, etc., and those expressing the relationship of man to his
creator; veneration, devotion, praise, etc. The two great sources of
inspiration to song writers have always been love and religion.

What are the principles of song construction? They are all comprised in
the law of fitness. The composer must do what he sets out to do. The
materials with which he has to work are rhythm, melody and harmony. The
most important thing in a song is the melody. This determines to a very
great extent the health and longevity of the song. Most of the songs
that have passed the century mark and still live do so by reason of
their melody. There must be a sense of fitness between the poem and the
melody. A poem which expresses a simple sentiment requires a simple
melody. A simple story should be told simply. If the poem is sad,
joyous, or tragic the melody must correspond. Otherwise the family
discords begin at once. Poetry cannot adapt itself to music, because its
mood is already established. It is the business of the composer to
create music which will supplement the poem. A lullaby should not have a
martial melody, neither should an exhortation to lofty patriotism be
given a melody which induces somnolence.

The same sense of fitness must obtain in the accompaniment. The office
of the accompaniment is not merely to keep the singer on the pitch. It
must help to tell the story by strengthening the mood of the poem. It
must not be trivial or insincere, neither must it overwhelm and thus
draw the attention of the listeners to itself and away from the singer.

The accompaniment is the clothing, or dress, of the melody. Melodies,
like people, should be well dressed but not over dressed. Some melodies,
like some people, look better in plain clothes than in a fancy costume.
Other melodies appear to advantage in a rich costume. Modern songwriters
are much inclined to overdress their melodies to the extent that the
accompaniment forces itself upon the attention to the exclusion of the
melody. Such writing is as incongruous as putting on a dress suit to go
to a fire.

The significance of the theme should indicate the nature of the
accompaniment. To take a simple sentiment and overload it with a modern
complex harmonic accompaniment is like going after sparrows with a
sixteen inch siege gun.

Comedy in the song should not be associated with tragedy in the
accompaniment. A lively poem should not have a lazy accompaniment. The
great songwriters were models in this respect. This accounts for their
greatness. Take for example Schubert's _Wohin_ and _Der Wanderer_,
Schumann's _Der Nussbaum_, Brahms' _Feldeinsamkeit_. These
accompaniments are as full of mood as either poem or melody.

The element of proportion enters into songwriting no less than into
architecture. A house fifteen by twenty feet with a tower sixty feet
high and a veranda thirty feet wide would be out of proportion. A song
with sixty-four measures of introduction and sixteen measures for the
voice would be out of proportion. Making a song is similar to painting a
landscape. In the painting the grass, flowers, shrubbery etc., are in
the foreground, then come the hills and if there be a mountain range it
is in the background. If the mountain range were in the foreground it
would obscure everything else. So in making a song. If it tells a story
and reaches a climax the climax should come near the end of the song.
When the singer has carried his audience with him up to a great
emotional height then all it needs is to be brought back safely and
quickly to earth and left there.


ASSOCIATION

I have mentioned the principles of song construction, but there are
other things which have to do with making a song effective. One of the
most important of these is association. Let us remember that the effect
and consequent value of music depends upon the class of emotions it
awakens rather than upon the technical skill of the composer, and that
these emotions are dependent to a considerable extent upon association.
We all remember the time honored expedient of tying a string around a
finger when a certain thing is to be remembered. The perception of the
digital decoration recalls the reason for it and thus the incident is
carried to a successful conclusion. In like manner feelings become
associated with ideas. Church bells arouse feelings of reverence and
devotion. To many of us a brass band awakens pleasant memories of circus
day. _Scots Wha Hae_ fills the Scotchman with love for his native
heather. The odor of certain flowers is offensive because we associate
it with a sad occasion. The beauty of a waltz is due not only to its
composition but also to our having danced to it under particularly
pleasant circumstances.

At the opera there are many things that combine to make it a pleasant
occasion--the distant tuning of the orchestra, the low hum of voices,
the faint odor of violets, and the recollection of having been there
before with that miracle of a girl,--all combine to fill us with
pleasurable anticipation. In this way we give as much to the performance
as it gives to us. According to some Aestheticians the indefinable
emotions we sometimes feel when listening to music are the
reverberations of feelings experienced countless ages ago. This may have
some foundation in fact, but it is somewhat like seeing in a museum a
mummy of ourselves in a previous incarnation.

Songs which have the strongest hold upon us are those which have been in
some way associated with our experience. The intensity with which such
songs as _Annie Laurie_, _Dixie_, _The Vacant Chair_, _Tramp, Tramp, Tramp_
grip us is due almost entirely to association.

Therefore the value of a song consists not alone in what it awakens in
the present, but in what it recalls from the past. Man is the sum of his
experience; and to make past experience contribute to the joy of the
present is to add abundance to riches.




VIII

HOW TO STUDY A SONG

    The accent of truth apparent in the voice when speaking
    naturally is the basis of expression in singing.

                                       Garcia. _Hints on Singing_.


First determine the general character of the song. A careful study of
the words will enable the student to find its general classification. It
may be dramatic, narrative, reminiscent, introspective, contemplative,
florid, sentimental.

The following are examples:

Dramatic, _The Erl King_, Schubert.

Narrative, _The Two Grenadiers_, Schumann.

Reminiscent, _Der Doppelgänger_, Schubert.

Florid, _Indian Bell Song_, from Lakme, Delibes.

Introspective, _In der Frühe_, Hugo Wolf.

Contemplative, _Feldeinsamkeit_, Brahms.

Songs of sentiment. This includes all songs involving the affections and
the homely virtues.

To these might be added songs of exaltation, such as Beethoven's
"Nature's Adoration." Character songs, in which the singer assumes a
character and expresses its sentiments. A good example of this is "The
Poet's Love" cycle by Schumann. Classifying the song in this way is the
first step toward discovering its atmosphere. There is always one tempo
at which a song sounds best and this tempo must grow out of a thorough
understanding of its character. Metronome marks should be unnecessary.
Intelligent study of a song will unerringly suggest the proper tempo.

Next, study the poem until it creates the mood. Read it, not once, but
many times. Imbibe not only its intellectual but its emotional content.
It is the office of poetry to stimulate the imagination. It is under the
influence of this stimulus that songs are written, and under its
influence they must be sung. Hugo Wolf said that he always studied the
poem until it composed the music. This means that he studied the poem
until he was so filled with its mood that the proper music came of
itself. Fix in mind the principal points in the poem and the order in
which they occur. There usually is development of some kind in a poem.
Learn what it is. Notice which part of the poem contains the great or
central idea. Read it aloud. Determine its natural accent. The singing
phrase grows out of the spoken phrase. Singing is elongated, or
sustained, speech, but it should be none the less intelligent by reason
of this.

Now adapt the words to the music. If the music has grown out of the
words as it should, it will follow the development of the poem and give
it additional strength.

By this time one should be in the mood of the song, and he should not
emerge from it until the song is finished. If one is filled with the
spirit of the song, is sincere and earnest, and is filled with a desire
to express what is beautiful and good he will not sing badly even if his
voice be ordinary.

The composer may do much toward creating the mood for both singer and
listener by means of his introduction. The introduction to a song is not
merely to give the singer the pitch. It is for the purpose of creating
the mood. It may be reminiscent of the principal theme of the song, it
may consist of some fragment of the accompaniment, or any other
materials which will tend to create the desired mood.

In the introduction to _Rhein-gold_ where Wagner wishes to portray a
certain elemental condition he uses 136 measures of the chord of E flat
major.

In _Feldeinsamkeit_ (The Quiet of the Fields) where the mood is such as
would come to one lying in the deep grass in the field watching "the
fair white clouds ride slowly overhead," in a state of complete
inaction, Brahms establishes the mood by this treatment of the major
chord.

[Illustration: Figure K]

In _Der Wanderer_ (The Wanderer) Schubert uses this musical figure to
indicate the ceaseless motion of one condemned to endless wandering.

[Illustration: Figure L]

In _The Maid of the Mill_ cycle where the young miller discovers the
brook Schubert uses this figure, which gives a clear picture of a
chattering brooklet. This figure continues throughout the song.

[Illustration: Figure M]

In the song _On the Journey Home_, which describes the feelings of one
who, after a long absence returns to view the "vales and mountains" of
his youth, Grieg, with two measures of introduction grips us with a mood
from which we cannot escape.

[Illustration: Figure N]

But one of the most striking examples of the operation of genius is
Schubert's introduction to _Am Meer_ (By the Sea). Here with two chords
he tells us the story of the lonely seashore, the deserted hut, the
tears, the dull sound of breakers dying on a distant shore, and all
around the unfathomable mystery of the mighty deep.

[Illustration: Figure O]

Classic song literature is full of interesting examples of this kind. If
we learn how to study the works of these great ones of the earth we
shall see how unerring is the touch of genius, and some day we shall
awaken to see that these kings and prophets are our friends, and that
they possess the supreme virtue of constancy.




IX

SCIENTIFIC VOICE PRODUCTION

    The immediate effect of the laryngoscope was to throw the whole
    subject into almost hopeless confusion by the introduction of
    all sorts of errors of observation, each claiming to be founded
    on ocular proof, and believed in with corresponding obstinacy.

                Sir Morell Mackenzie. _Hygiene of the Vocal Organs_.


He who studies the voice in a physics laboratory naturally considers
himself a scientific man, and those teachers who make his discoveries
the basis of their teaching believe they are teaching the science of
voice production. The scientist says: "Have I not studied the voice in
action? I have seen, therefore I know." But the element of uncertainty
in what he has seen makes his knowledge little more than speculative.
But suppose he is sure of what he has seen. Of what importance is it? He
has seen a vocal organ in the act of producing tone under trying
conditions, for one under the conditions necessary to the use of the
laryngoscope is not at all likely to reach his own standard of tone
production.

Scientists would have us believe that the action of the vocal mechanism
is the same in all voices. This claim must necessarily be made or there
would be no such thing as scientific production. But of all the vocal
vagaries advanced this has the least foundation in fact.

Scientifically and artistically speaking there is no such thing at
present as perfect voice, and there will be no such thing until man
manifests a perfect mind. The best examples of voice production are not
altogether perfect, and most of them are still a considerable distance
from perfection. It is with these imperfect models that the scientific
man in dealing and on which he bases his deductions.

Be it right or wrong singers do not all use the vocal mechanism in the
same way. I have in mind two well known contraltos one of whom carried
her chest register up to A, and even to B flat occasionally. The other
carried her middle register down to the bottom of the voice. Can the
tenor who carries his chest voice up to [Illustration: Figure P] be said
to use his voice in the same way as one who begins his head voice at
[Illustration: Figure Q]?

In the examination of a hundred voices selected at random all manner of
different things would be observed. Perhaps this is responsible for the
great diversity of opinion among scientists, for it must be said that so
far there is little upon which they agree. Before absolute laws
governing any organ or instrument can be formulated the nature of the
instrument must be known. The scientists have never come anywhere near
an agreement as to what kind of an instrument man has in his throat.
They have not decided whether it is a stringed instrument, a brass, a
single or double reed, and these things are vital in establishing a
scientific basis of procedure. Not knowing what the instrument is, it is
not strange that we are not of one mind as to how it should be played
upon.

If we are to know the science of voice production we must first know the
mechanism and action of the vocal organ. This instrument, perhaps an
inch and a half in length, produces tones covering a compass, in rare
instances, of three octaves. How does it do it? According to the books,
in a variety of ways.

A majority of those voice teachers who believe in registers recognize
three adjustments, chest middle, and upper, or chest medium, and head,
but Dr. MacKenzie claims that in four hundred female voices which he
examined he found in most cases the chest mechanism was used throughout.
Mancini (1774) says there are instances in which there is but one
register used throughout.

Garcia says there are three mechanisms--chest, falsetto, and head, and
makes them common to both sexes.

Behnke divides the voice into five registers--lower and upper thick,
lower and upper thin, and small.

Dr. Guilmette says that to hold that all of the tones of the voice
depend on one mechanism or register is an acknowledgment of ignorance of
vocal anatomy. He further declares that the vocal cords have nothing to
do with tone--that it is produced by vibration of the mucous membrane of
the trachea, larynx, pharynx, mouth; in fact, all of the mucous membrane
of the upper half of the body.

When it comes to the falsetto voice, that scarehead to so many people
who have no idea what it is, but are morally sure it is wicked and
ungodly, the scientists give their imaginations carte blanche. Dr.
Mackenzie, who says there are but two mechanisms, the long and short
reed, says the falsetto is produced by the short reed.

Lehfeldt and Muller hold that falsetto is produced by the vibrations of
the inner edges or mucous covering of the vocal cords, the body of the
cords being relaxed.

Mr. Lunn feels sure that the true vocal cords are not involved in
falsetto, that voice being produced by the false vocal cords.

Mantels says that in the falsetto voice the vocal cords do not produce
pitch, that the quality and mechanism are both that of the flute, that
the cords set the air in vibration and the different tones are made by
alterations in the length of the tube.

Davidson Palmer says that the falsetto is the remnant of the boy's voice
which has deteriorated through lack of use, but which is the correct
mechanism to be used throughout the tenor voice.

Mr. Chater argues along the same lines as Mr. Mantels except that he
makes the instrument belong to the clarinet or oboe class. Others
believe the vocal cords act as the lips do in playing a brass
instrument.

But the action of the vocal cords is but the first part of the
unscientific controversy. What takes place above the vocal cords is
equally mystifying. The offices of the pharynx, the mouth, the nasal
cavities, the entire structure of the head in fact, are rich in
uncertainties.

Some think the cavities of the pharynx and head are involved
acoustically and in some way enlarge, refine and purify the tone, but
one famous man says the head has nothing whatever to do with it. Another
gentleman of international reputation says the nose is the most
important factor in singing. If your nasal cavities are right you can
sing, otherwise you cannot.

And so this verbal rambling continues; so the search for mind in matter
goes on, with a seriousness scarcely equalled in any other line of
strife. There is nothing more certain to permanently bewilder a vocal
student than to deluge him with pseudo-scientific twaddle about the
voice. And this for the simple reason that he comes to learn to sing,
not for a course in anatomy.

What is scientific voice production? Books without number have been
written with the openly expressed intention to give a clear exposition
of the subject, but the seeker for a scientific method soon finds
himself in a maze of conflicting human opinions from which he cannot
extricate himself.

We are told with much unction and warmth that science means to know.
That it is a knowledge of principles or causes, ascertained truths or
facts. A scientific voice teacher then must know something. What must he
know? Books on scientific voice production usually begin with a picture
of the larynx, each part of which is labeled with a Greek word sometimes
longer than the thing itself. It then proceeds to tell the unction of
each muscle and cartilage and the part it plays in tone production. Now
if this is scientific, and if science is exact knowledge, and this exact
knowledge is the basis of scientific voice teaching, then every one who
has a perfect knowledge of these facts about the voice, must in the
eternal and invariable nature of facts be a perfect voice teacher, and
every one of these perfect voice teachers must teach in exactly the same
way and produce exactly the same results. Does history support this
argument? Quite the reverse.

There is a science of acoustics, and in this science one may learn all
about tones, vibrating bodies, vibrating strings, vibrating cavities,
simple, compound and complex vibrations. Will this knowledge make him a
scientific voice teacher? When he has learned all of this he has not yet
begun to prepare for voice teaching. There is no record of a great voice
teacher having been trained in a physics laboratory.

It is possible to analyze a tone and learn how fundamental and upper
partials are combined and how these combinations affect quality. Does
this constitute scientific voice production? This knowledge may all be
gained from the various hand books on acoustics. Has any one the
hardihood to assert that such knowledge prepares one for the responsible
work of training voices? One may know all of this and still be as
ignorant of voice training as a Hottentot is of Calvinism.

Further, who shall decide which particular combination of fundamental
and upper partials constitutes the perfect singing tone? If a tone is
produced and we say, there is the perfect tone, all it proves is that it
corresponds to our mental concept of tone. It satisfies our ear, which
is another term for our taste.

Can a tone be disagreeable and still be scientifically produced? One
combination of fundamental and overtones is, strictly speaking, just as
scientific as another combination. The flute tone with its two overtones
is just as scientific as the string tone with its six or eight. A tone
is pleasant or disagreeable according as it corresponds to a mental
demand. Even the most hardened scientist would not call a tone which
offends his ear scientific. Therefore he must first produce, or have
produced the tone that satisfies his ear. The question then naturally
arises--when he has secured the tone that satisfies his ear of what
value beyond satisfying his curiosity is a physical analysis? A tone is
something to hear, and when it satisfies the ear that knows, that in
itself is unmistakable evidence that it is rightly produced.

If this scientific knowledge of tone is necessary then every great
artist in the world is unscientific, because not one of them makes any
use whatsoever of such knowledge in his singing.

No. All of the scientific knowledge one may acquire is no guaranty of
success as a teacher, but is rather in the nature of a hindrance,
because it is likely to lead him into mechanical ways of doing things.
Further, the possession of such knowledge is no indication that one will
use it in his teaching. How much of such knowledge can one use in
teaching? How can he tell, save from the tone itself whether the pupil
is producing it scientifically? It is a well established fact that the
more the teacher tries to use his scientific information in teaching the
less of an artist he becomes.

Could it be possible that a beautiful tone could be produced contrary to
the laws of science? It would be an extraordinary mind that would argue
in the affirmative.

=The most beautiful tone is the most perfectly produced, whether the
singer knows anything of vocal mechanism or not.= In such a tone there
is no consciousness of mechanics or scientific laws. The vocal mechanism
is responding automatically to the highest law in the universe--the law
of beauty. The most scientific thing possible is a beautiful idea
perfectly expressed, because a thing inherently beautiful is eternally
true, hence it is pure science.

Every tone of the human voice is the expression of life, of an idea, a
feeling, an emotion, and unless interfered with the vocal mechanism
responds automatically.

He who by experiment or reading has learned the action of the vocal
mechanism, and attempts to make his pupil control every part of it by
direct effort may imagine that he is teaching scientific voice
production, but he is not, he is only doing a mechanical thing in a
clumsy way.

Is it a scientific act to tell a pupil to hold his tongue down, as one
writer argued recently? Is a teacher calling into action the eternal
laws of science when he tells his pupil to drive the tone through the
head, hoist the soft palate, groove the tongue, and make the diaphragm
rigid? No. He is simply doing a mechanical thing badly for want of a
better way. It is no more scientific than kicking the cat out of the way
if she gets under your feet.

Any one who has learned the elements of psychology or philosophy knows
that everything exists first as idea. The real universe is the one that
exists in the mind of the creator. The real man is the part of him that
thinks. To hold that the body thinks or acts is equivalent to saying
that Gray's "Elegy" was in the pen with which the poet wrote.

To a natural scientist the only real thing is what he can see, therefore
he bases his faith on what he conceives to be matter; but if we study
the great ones--Oswald, Huxley, Grant, Allen, and the like, we find that
they have long ago reached the conclusion that there is no such thing as
matter. According to Schopenhauer the world is idea, and this so called
material environment is thought objectifying itself.

Vocal teachers, like the members of other professions, are not
altogether immune to an attack of intellect, and at such times the
thought that they are doing something scientific is particularly
agreeable.

The only study of science that can benefit any one is the study of
causation, and causation cannot be cognized by the physical senses. We
never see, hear, feel, taste, or smell cause. What we see or hear is
effect. Causation is mental. Natural science is dealing with phenomena,
with effect not cause. A regular recurrence of phenomena may establish a
so called natural law, but the law is that which caused the phenomena,
"Law is force" says Hegel, and it is therefore mental. We are told that
the law of the earth is its path around the sun. This is not true, the
law of the earth is the mind which makes it revolve around the sun. If
we would learn the nature, activity, and cause of anything we must look
for it in _mind_ not in matter. For this reason the process of voice
production is _psychologic_ not physiologic. When a pupil sings, what we
hear is _effect_ not cause. If he is doing all manner of unnecessary
things with his lips, tongue, larynx, etc. what we see is effect and the
cause is in wrong _mental_ concepts. The thing which caused the tone is
_mental_, the force which produced it is _mental_, and the means by
which we know whether it is good, or bad is _mental_.

Of this we may be sure, that the tone the pupil sings will not be better
than the one he has in mind. _A tone exists first as a mental concept,
and the quality of the mental concept determines the quality of the
tone._

If there be such a thing as scientific voice production it will be found
in the sense of what is inherently beautiful, and the scientific tone is
one which will perfectly express a right idea or emotion, and in the
nature of things there is an appropriate tone for everything that may be
legitimately expressed, for they are correlated ideas.

Whence originated this so called scientific voice teaching? That the old
Italian knew nothing of it is well understood. They considered the
process artistic rather than scientific. _How does it sound_, was their
slogan. The thing uppermost in their minds was beautiful tone, and they
were wise enough to know that when one has a definite concept of the
pure singing tone he has a more valuable asset than all the mechanical
knowledge he can acquire. They had but one end in view, namely, a
finished artist, and everything they did was made to contribute to it.
The artist always has in mind the _finished product_. The scientist
tries to find out _how it is done_. The artist begins with the idea and
works forward to its complete expression. The scientist begins with the
physical mechanism and works backward toward the idea.

What is responsible for the change from the methods of the the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries? It is safe to say that it did not
come through the voice teachers.

In the early part of the nineteenth century an interesting thing
happened. How it happened or why it happened at that particular time is
not known nor does it matter. The human mind became all at once
aggressively inquisitive. The desire to get at the ultimate of
everything took possession of humanity and still holds it. The result
was an era of scientific analysis and invention, the aim of which was to
control the forces of nature. Previous to that time methods of living,
production, transportation, agriculture, etc. were little different from
that of biblical times. People and nations lived much to themselves.
They looked within for their inspiration and developed their own
national characteristics. But with the invention of the steamship,
railway, and telegraph a change came. These improved methods of
transportation and communication brought all of the mentalities of the
world together, and soon all habitable parts of the globe were in daily
and hourly contact. The result was a mental fermentation which increased
the complexity of civilization immeasurably and the present exaggerated
and unnatural condition of society is the outgrowth.

Between 1809 and 1813 were born Mendelssohn, Chopin, Schumann, Liszt,
and Wagner. These men are known as the founders of the modern romantic
school of music. They grew up with the new civilization and could not do
otherwise than reflect its complexity in their music. That the new
civilization was responsible for the new art there is no doubt whatever.
All old types have passed away. All branches of art have suffered
radical changes in conforming to new ideals.

Since the wave of scientific investigation started around the world
nothing has been able to escape it. The hand of the scientist has been
upon everything, and to him rather than to the voice teachers must be
given the credit for originating scientific voice teaching.

When the scientists began publishing the results of their investigations
voice teachers at once became interested. The plan looked promising. It
offered them a method shorn of uncertainties. A method that brought
everything under the operation of physical laws; a method that dealt
only with finalities, and would operate in spite of a lack of musical
intelligence on the part of the student, and at the same time enable
them to lay to their souls the flattering unction of science. True it
ignored altogether the psychology of the matter. It said "do it this way
and a beautiful tone will come whether you are thinking it or not,
because scientific laws eternally operating in the same way eternally
produce the same results."

The scientific method gave voice teachers an opportunity to work with
something tangible, something they could see; whereas the development of
tone concept, the artistic instinct, musical feeling, and musicianship
had to do with things which to most of them were intangible and elusive.
No one doubts the honesty of the teachers who became obsessed with the
scientific idea. To them it meant increased efficiency and accuracy,
quicker results with less effort, and so they broke with the old
Italians, the basis of whose teaching was beautiful tone and beautiful
singing. In spite of the honesty of purpose of all those who followed
the new way, the results were calamitous. The art of singing received a
serious setback. Voices without number were ruined. From the middle to
the end of the nineteenth century the scientific idea was rampant, and
during that period it is probable that the worst voice teaching in the
history of the world was done. Large numbers of people with neither
musicianship nor musical instincts acquired a smattering of anatomy and
a few mechanical rules and advertised themselves as teachers of
scientific voice production. The great body of vocal students, anxious
to learn to sing in the shortest possible time, having no way of telling
the genuine from the spurious except by trying it, fell an easy prey,
and the amount of vocal damage and disaster visited upon singers in the
name of science is beyond calculation.

Fortunately the reaction has begun. Slowly but surely we are returning
to a saner condition of mind. Every year adds to the number of those who
recognize singing as an art, whose vision is clear enough to see that
the work of the scientific investigator should be confined to the
laboratory and that it has no place in the studio. We are beginning to
see that the basic principle of singing is _freedom in the expression of
the beautiful_, and that the less there is of the mechanical in the
process the better.




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