SPANISH OPERA

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



XVI

CLAUDIA MUZIO

A CHILD OF THE OPERA



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

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

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

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

* * * * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TECHNICAL PRACTICE

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

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

BREATH CONTROL

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

MEMORIZING

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

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

KEEPING UP REPERTOIRE

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

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



XVII

EDWARD JOHNSON

(EDOUARDO DI GIOVANNI)

THE EVOLUTON OF AN OPERA STAR

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

A MUSICAL CAREER

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

NOT MANY RULES

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

THE EAR

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

BEL CANTO

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

LEARNING A ROLE

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

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

INTERPRETATION

On the subject of individuality in interpretation, Mr. Johnson was convincing. "I feel that if I have worked out a characterization, I must stick to my idea, in spite of what others say. It is my own conception, and I must either stand or fall by it. At times I have tried to follow the suggestions of this or that critic and have changed my interpretation to suit their taste. But it always rendered me self conscious, made my work unnatural and caused me speedily to return to my own conception.

LEARNING BY DOING

"The singer finds the stage a great teacher. Before the footlights he has constant opportunity to try out this or that effect, to note which placement of the voice best fits the tones he wishes to produce. Then, too, he soon learns to feel whether he has made the impression he had hoped, whether he has the audience with him. If he cannot win the audience, he takes careful thought to see why. In order to win his hearers, to get his work across the footlights, there are certain things he must have, virtues he must possess. For instance,"—and the artist counted them off on his finger tips,—"he must have Accent, Diction, Characterization, and above all, Sincerity. No matter what other good qualities he may possess, he must be sincere before anything else. If he lack this the audience soon finds it out. There's nothing that wins its way like the grace of sincerity. You see I give prominent place to accent and diction. Whatever fault the critics found with me, they have always conceded to me both these virtues.

"But time passes and soon the work of the night will begin. I trust that our informal conference may contain a few points of personal experience which may be helpful to those who are striving to enter the field of opera." And with his pleasant smile and genial greeting, Mr. Johnson closed the conference.



XVIII

REINALD WERRENRATH

ACHIEVING SUCCESS ON THE CONCERT STAGE

At the close of a recital by Reinald Werrenrath, the listener feels he has something to carry away, a tangible impression, a real message. What is the impression—can it be defined? Perhaps it is more the complete effect as a whole that makes the deepest impression. The voice is always agreeable, the diction so clear and distinct that every syllable can be followed from the topmost corner of Carnegie Hall, so there is no need to print a program book for this singer. Different qualities of voice render the picture or mood more vivid, and all is accomplished with perfect ease, in itself a charm. People settle in their seats as if certain that a song recital by Werrenrath is sure to bring enjoyment and satisfaction.

And Mr. Werrenrath has proven, through season after season of concert giving in America, that he is filling his own special niche in the scheme of the country's musical life; that he has his own message of the beautiful—the natural—in vocal art to deliver to the people all over the land, and he is accomplishing this with ever increasing ability and success.

To go through a season filled with concert tours, such as a popular singer has laid out for him, means so many weeks and months of strenuous toil and travel. There may be a few brief hours or days here and there, when he can be at home among family and friends; but soon he is off again—"on the road."

Mr. Werrenrath is the sort of singer who is generally on the wing, or if not exactly that, is so rushed with work, record making and rehearsing for occasional opera appearances, that it is very difficult to get a word with him. I was exceedingly fortunate however, one day recently, to catch a glimpse of him between a Metropolitan rehearsal on the one hand, and some concert business on the other. He entered the room where I waited, tall, vigorous, his fine face lighted by a rapid walk in the fresh air; he seemed the embodiment of mental vigor and alertness.

VOCAL CONTROL



I plunged at once into the subject I had come for, telling him I wanted to know how he had worked to bring about such results as were noted in his recent recital in Carnegie Hall; in what way he had studied, and what, in his opinion, were the most important factors, from an educational point of view, for the young singer to consider.

"That is entirely too difficult a question to be answered briefly, even in a half hour, or in an hour's talk. There are too many angles;" his clear gray eyes looked at me frankly as he spoke. "Voice culture, voice mastery, what is it? It is having control of your instrument to such an extent that you put it out of your thought completely when you sing. The voice is your servant and must do your bidding. This control is arrived at through a variety of means, and can be considered from a thousand angles, any one of which would be interesting to follow up. I have been on the concert stage for nearly a score of years, and ought to know whereof I speak; yet I can say I have not learned it all even now, not by any means. Vocal technic is something on which you are always working, something which is never completed, something which is constantly improving with your mental growth and experience—if you are working along the right lines. People talk of finishing their vocal technic; how can that ever be done? You are always learning how to do better. If you don't make the effect you expected to, in a certain place, when singing in public, you take thought of it afterward, consider what was the matter, why you couldn't put it over—why it had no effect on the audience. Then you work on it, learn how to correct and improve it.

EARLY EXPERIENCES

"As you may know, my father was a great singer; he was my first teacher. After I lost him I studied for several years with Dr. Carl Duft and later with Arthur Mees. In all this time I had learned a great deal about music from the intellectual and emotional sides, music in the abstract and so on. In fact, I thought I knew about all there was to be learned about the art of song; I settled back on my oars and let the matter go at that. At last, however, I awoke to see that I didn't know it all yet; I discovered I couldn't put the feeling and emotion which surged within me across to others in the way I wanted to—in the way which could move and impress them; I could not make the effects I wanted; I was getting into a rut. This was seven years ago. At that time I went to Percy Rector Stevens, who has done me an immense amount of good, and with whom I constantly keep in touch, in case there should be anything wrong with my instrument anywhere. Mr. Stevens understands the mechanics of the voice perhaps better than any one I know of. If I go to him and say: 'I made some tones last night that didn't sound right to me,' or 'I couldn't seem to put over this or that effect; I want you to tell me what is the matter.' He will say: 'Sing for me, show me the trouble and we'll see what we can do for it.' So I sing and he will say: 'You are tightening your throat at that place,' or 'your diaphragm is not working properly,' or there is some other defect. He can always put his finger directly on the weak spot. He is my vocal doctor. Your whole vocal apparatus must work together in entire harmony. We hear of teachers who seem to specialize on some one part of the anatomy to the exclusion of other parts. They are so particular about the diaphragm, for instance; that must be held with exactly the right firmness to support the tone. That is all very well; but what about the chest, the larynx, the throat, the head and all the rest of the anatomy? The truth is the whole trunk and head of the body are concerned in the act of tone production; they form the complete instrument, so to say. When the singer is well and strong and in good condition, all the parts respond and do their work easily and efficiently.

DAILY PRACTICE

"I do not go through a routine of scales and exercises daily—at least not in the season, for I have no time. If you are going to take your automobile out for a spin you don't ride it around for half an hour in the yard to see whether it will go. No, you first look after the machinery, to see if all is in working order, and then you start out, knowing it will go. I do a lot of gymnastics each day, to exercise the voice and limber up the anatomy. These act as a massage for the voice; they are in the nature of humming, mingled with grunts, calls, exclamations, shouts, and many kinds of sounds—indeed so many and various they cannot be enumerated. But they put the voice in condition, so there is no need for all these other exercises which most singers find so essential to their vocal well-being. I will say right here that I am working with two masters; the first for the mechanics of the voice, the second who helps me from quite an opposite angle—interpretation and finish.

WITH MAUREL

"The master from whom I have learned so much that it cannot be estimated is Victor Maurel. He is a most remarkable man, a great thinker and philosopher. If he had turned his attention to any other art or science, or if he had been but a day laborer, he would be a great man anywhere, in any capacity.

"I have been with him, whenever possible, for two years now. He has shown me the philosophy, the psychology of singing. He has taught me the science of intense diction. By means of such diction, I can sing mezza voce, and put it over with less effort and much more artistic effect than I ever used to do, when I employed much more voice. You hear it said this or that person has a big voice and can sing with great power. A brass band can make a lot of noise. I have stood beside men, who in a smaller space, could make much more noise than I could. But when they got out on the stage you couldn't hear them at the back of the hall. It is the knowing how to use the voice with the least possible effort, coupled with the right kind of diction, that will make the greatest effect. Now I can express myself, and deliver the message I feel I have to give.

THE SINGER BEFORE AN AUDIENCE

"You ask if I hear myself, when I am singing for an audience. In a general way, yes. Of course I do not get the full effect of what I am doing; a singer never does. It takes the records to tell me that, and I have been making records for a good number of years. But I know the sensations which accompany correct tone production, and if I feel they are different in any place or passage, I try to make a mental note of the fact and the passage, that I may correct it afterwards. But I must emphasize the point that when I sing, I cast away all thought of how I do anything technical; I want to get away from the mechanics of the voice; I must keep my thought clear for the interpretation, for the message I have brought to the audience. To be constantly thinking—how am I doing this or that—would hamper me terribly. I should never get anywhere. I must have my vocal apparatus under such control that it goes of itself. A pianist does not think of technic when playing in public, neither should a singer think of his vocal technic. Of course there may be occasions when adverse circumstances thrust conditions upon me. If I have a slight cold, or tightness of throat, I have to bring all my resources to bear, to rise above the seeming handicap, and sing as well as I can in spite of it. I can say gratefully, without any desire to boast, that during the past eleven years, I have never once missed an engagement or disappointed an audience. Of course I have had to keep engagements when I did not feel in the mood, either physically or mentally. Many singers would have refused under like conditions. But it does not seem fair to the audience to disappoint, or to the manager either; it puts him in a very difficult and unpleasant position. It seems to me the artist should be more considerate of both manager and audience, than to yield to a slight indisposition and so break his engagement.

THE SINGER IN HIS STUDIO

"It makes such a difference—in quality of tone and in effect—whether you sing in a small or large space. Things you do in the studio and which may sound well there, are quite different or are lost altogether in a large hall. You really cannot tell what the effect will be in a great space, by what you do in your studio. In rehearsing and study, I use half voice, and only occasionally do I use full voice, that is when I wish to get a better idea of the effect."

VOCAL MASTERY

As we stood at the close of the conference, I asked the supreme question—What do you understand by Vocal Mastery? The artist looked as though I were making an impossible demand in requiring an answer to so comprehensive a subject. He took a few strides and then came back.

"I can answer that question with one word—Disregard. Which means, that if you have such control of your anatomy, such command of your vocal resources that they will always do their work, that they can be depended upon to act perfectly, then you can disregard mechanism, and think only of the interpretation—only of your vocal message. Then you have conquered the material—then you have attained Vocal Mastery!"



XIX

SOPHIE BRASLAU

MAKING A CAREER IN AMERICA

A fact, often overlooked when considering the career of some of our great singers of to-day, is the fact that they started out to become an instrumentalist rather than a singer. In other words they become proficient on some instrument before taking up serious study of the voice. In this connection one thinks of Mme. Sembrich, who was both pianist and violinist before becoming known as a singer. It would be interesting to follow up this idea and enumerate the vocalists who have broadened their musicianship through the study of other instruments than their own voices. But this delightful task must be reserved for future leisure. For the present it can be set down here that Miss Sophie Braslau, probably the youngest star in the constellation of the Metropolitan artists, is an accomplished pianist, and intended to make her career with the aid of that instrument instead of with her voice.

But we will let the young artist speak for herself. On the occasion in question, she had just returned from a walk, her arms full of rosebuds. "I never can resist flowers," she remarked, as she had them placed in a big silver vase. Then she carried the visitor off to her own special rooms, whose windows overlooked an inner garden, where one forgot one was in the heart of New York. "Indeed it is not like New York at all, rather like Paris," said Miss Braslau, answering my thought.

On a chaise longue in this ivory and rose sanctum, reposed a big, beautiful doll, preserved from childish days. The singer took it up; "I don't play with it now," she said with a smile, "but I used to." She placed it carefully in a chair, then settled herself to talk.



"Yes, I intended to make the piano my instrument and began my studies at the age of six. Before long it was seen that I had something of a voice, but no one gave it much thought, supposing I was to be a pianist; indeed I have the hand of one," holding it up. "I don't think, in those early years, I was so very anxious to become a player. I did not love scales—do not now, and would quite as soon have sat at the piano with a book in my lap, while my fingers mechanically did their stunts. But my mother looked after my practice, and often sat near me. She required a regular amount of time given to music study each day. I am so grateful that she was strict with me, for my knowledge of piano and its literature is the greatest joy to me now. To my thinking all children should have piano lessons; the cost is trifling compared to the benefits they receive. They should be made to study, whether they wish to or not. They are not prepared to judge what is good for them, and if they are given this advantage they will be glad of it later on.

"In due time I entered the Institute of Musical Art, taking the full piano course. Arthur Hochmann was my teacher for piano, and I found him an excellent master. He did a great deal for me; in interpretation, in fineness of detail, in artistic finish I owe him very much. Later I studied several years with Alexander Lambert.

"While at work with my piano, it grew more apparent that I had a voice that should be cultivated. So I began. Afterwards I worked three years with Signor Buzzi Peccia, who started me on an operatic career and finally brought me to the Metropolitan.

"It was a great ordeal for a young singer, almost a beginner, to start at our greatest Opera House! It meant unremitting labor for me. I worked very hard, but I am not afraid of work. Toscanini held sway when I began, and he was a marvelous musician and conductor. Such exactness, such perfection of detail; he required perfection of every one. He did not at first realize how much of a beginner I was, though I had really learned a large number of roles. He was so strict in every detail that I wept many bitter tears for fear I would not come up to the mark. I knew the music, but had not gained experience through routine. It seems to me every singer should gain this experience in some smaller places before attempting the highest. My advice would be to go and get experience in Europe first. I have never been in Germany, but in Italy and France there are many small opera houses where one may learn routine.

"Another thing. There is a mistaken notion that one cannot reach any height in opera without 'pull' and great influence. I am sure this is not true; for while a pull may help, one must be able to deliver the goods. If one cannot, all the backing in the world will not make one a success. The singer must have the ability to 'put it over.' Think of the artists who can do it—Farrar, Gluck, Schumann-Heink. There is never any doubt about them; they always win their audiences. What I have done has been accomplished by hard work, without backing of any kind. Really of what use is backing anyway? The public can judge—or at least it can feel. I know very well that when my chance came to sing Shanewis, if I had not been able to do it, no amount of influence would have helped the situation. I had it in my own hand to make or mar my career. I often wonder whether audiences really know anything about what you are trying to do; whether they have any conception of what is right in singing, or whether they are merely swayed by the temperament of the singer.

"Whether we are, or are not to be a musical nation should be a question of deep interest to all music lovers. If we really become a great musical people, it will be largely due to the work of the records. We certainly have wonderful advantages here, and are doing a tremendous lot for music.

"I had an interesting experience recently. It was in a little town in North Carolina, where a song recital had never before been given. Can you fancy a place where there had never even been a concert? The people in this little town were busy producing tobacco and had never turned their thought toward music. In the face of the coming concert what did those people do? They got a program, studied what pieces I had sung on the Victor, got the music of the others; so they had a pretty good idea of what I was going to sing. When I stepped on the platform that night and saw the little upright piano (no other instrument could be secured) and looked into those eager faces, I wondered how they would receive my work. My first number was an aria from Orfeo. When I finished, the demonstration was so deafening I had to wait minutes before I could go on. And so it continued all the evening.

"How do I work? Very hard, at least six hours a day. Of these I actually sing perhaps three hours. I begin at nine and give the first hour to memory work on repertoire. I give very thorough study to my programs; for I must know every note in them, both for voice and piano. I make it a point to know the accompaniments, for in case I am ever left without an accompanist, I can play for myself, and it has a great effect on audiences. They may not know or care whether you can play Beethoven or Chopin, but the fact that you can play while you sing, greatly impresses them.

"In committing a song, I play it over and sing it sufficiently to get a good idea of its construction and meaning; then I work in detail, learning words and music at the same time, usually. Certain things are very difficult for me, things requiring absolute evenness of passage work, or sustained calm. Naturally I have an excess of temperament; I feel things in a vivid, passionate way. So I need to go very slowly at times. To-day I gave several hours to only three lines of an aria by Haendel, and am not yet satisfied with it. Indeed, can we ever rest satisfied, when there is so much to learn, and we can always improve?

"The second hour of my day is given to vocalizes. Of course there are certain standard things that one must do; but there are others that need not be done every day. I try to vary the work as much as I can.

"The rest of the day is given to study on repertoire and all the things that belong to it. There is so much more to a singer's art than merely to sing. And it is a sad thing to find that so many singers lack musicianship. They seem to think if they can sing some songs, or even a few operas, that is all there is to it. But one who would become an artist must work most of the time. I am sure Charles Hackett knows the value of work; so does Mabel Garrison and many other Americans. And when you think of it, there are really a brave number of our own singers who are not only making good, but making big names for themselves and winning the success that comes from a union of talent and industry."



XX

MORGAN KINGSTON

THE SPIRITUAL SIDE OF THE SINGER'S ART

"A man who has risen to his present eminence through determined effort and hard work, who has done it all in America, is a unique figure in the world of art. He can surely give much valuable information to students, for he has been through so much himself." Thus I was informed by one who was in a position to understand how Morgan Kingston had achieved success. The well known tenor was most kind in granting an audience to one seeking light on his ideas and experiences. He welcomed the visitor with simple, sincere courtesy, and discussed for an hour and a half various aspects of the singer's art.

"In what way may I be of service to you?" began Mr. Kingston, after the first greetings had been exchanged.

"There are many questions to ask," was the answer; "perhaps it were best to propound the most difficult one first, instead of reserving it till the last. What, in your opinion, goes into the acquiring of Vocal Mastery?"

"That is certainly a difficult subject to take up, for vocal mastery includes so many things. First and foremost it includes vocal technic. One must have an excellent technic before one can hope to sing even moderately well. The singer can do nothing without technic, though of course there are many people who try to sing without it. They, however, never get anywhere when hampered by such a lack of equipment. Technic furnishes the tools with which the singer creates his vocal art work; just as the painter's brushes enable him to paint his picture.

RULES OF TECHNIC



"I said the singer should have a finished technic in order to express the musical idea aright, in order to be an artist. But technic is never finished; it goes on developing and broadening as we ourselves grow and develop. We learn by degrees what to add on and what to take away, in our effort to perfect technic. Students, especially in America, are too apt to depend on rules merely. They think if they absolutely follow the rules, they must necessarily become singers; if they find that you deviate from rule they tell you of it, and hold you up to the letter of the law, rather than its meaning and spirit. I answer, rules should be guides, not tyrants. Rules are necessary in the beginning; later we get beyond them,—or rather we work out their spirit and are not hide-bound by the letter.

EARLY STRUGGLES

"As you may know, I was born in Nottinghamshire, England. I always sang, as a small boy, just for the love of it, never dreaming I would one day make it my profession. In those early days I sang in the little church where Lord Byron is buried. How many times I have walked over the slab which lies above his vault. When I was old enough I went to work in the mines, so you see I know what hardships the miners endure; I know what it means to be shut away from the sun for so many hours every day. And I would lighten their hardships in every way possible. I am sure, if it rested with me, to choose between having no coal unless I mined it myself, I would never dig a single particle. But this is aside from the subject in hand.

"I always sang for the love of singing, and I had the hope that some day I could do some good with the gift which the good God had bestowed on me. Then, one day, the opportunity came for me to sing in a concert in London. Up to that time I had never had a vocal lesson in my life; my singing was purely a natural product. On this occasion I sang, evidently with some little success, for it was decided that very night that I should become a singer. Means were provided for both lessons and living, and I now gave my whole time and attention toward fitting myself for my new calling. The lady who played my accompaniments at that concert became my teacher. And I can say, with gratitude to a kind Providence, that I have never had, nor wished to have any other. When I hear young singers in America saying they have been to Mr. S. to get his points, then they will go to Mr. W. to learn his point of view, I realize afresh that my experience has been quite different and indeed unique; I am devoutly thankful it has been so.

WHAT THE TEACHER SHOULD DO FOR THE STUDENT

"My teacher made a study of me, of my characteristics, mentality and temperament. That should be the business of every real teacher, since each individual has different characteristics from every other.

"It is now ten years since I began to study the art of singing. I came to America soon after the eventful night which changed my whole career; my teacher also came to this country. I had everything to learn; I could not even speak my own language; my speech was a dialect heard in that part of the country where I was brought up. I have had to cultivate and refine myself. I had to study other languages, Italian, French and German. I learned them all in America. So you see there is no need for an American to go out of his own country for vocal instruction or languages; all can be learned right here at home. I am a living proof of this. What I have done others can do.

THE TECHNICAL SIDE

"As for technical material, I have never used a great quantity. Of course I do scales and vocalizes for a short time each day; such things are always kept up. Then I make daily use of about a dozen exercises by Rubini. Beyond these I make technical studies out of the pieces. But, after one has made a certain amount of progress on the technical side, one must work for one's self—I mean one must work on one's moral nature.

THE MORAL SIDE

"I believe strongly that a singer cannot adequately express the beautiful and pure in music while cherishing at the same time, a bad heart and a mean nature behind it. Singing is such a personal thing, that one's mentality, one's inner nature, is bound to reveal itself. Each one of us has evil tendencies to grapple with, envy, jealousy, hatred, sensuality and all the rest of the evils we are apt to harbor. If we make no effort to control these natural tendencies, they will permanently injure us, as well as impair the voice, and vitiate the good we might do. I say it in all humility, but I am earnestly trying to conquer the errors in myself, so that I may be able to do some good with my voice. I have discovered people go to hear music when they want to be soothed and uplifted. If they desire to be amused and enjoy a good laugh, they go to light opera or vaudeville; if they want a soothing, quieting mental refreshment, they attend a concert, opera or oratorio. Therefore I want to give them, when I sing, what they are in need of, what they are longing for. I want to have such control of myself that I shall be fitted to help and benefit every person in the audience who listens to me. Until I have thus prepared myself, I am not doing my whole duty to myself, to my art or to my neighbor.

"We hear about the petty envy and jealousy in the profession, and it is true they seem to be very real at times. Picture two young women singing at a concert; one receives much attention and beautiful flowers, the other—none of these things. No doubt it is human nature, so-called, for the neglected one to feel horribly jealous of the favored one. Now this feeling ought to be conquered, for I believe, if it is not, it will prevent the singer making beautiful, correct tones, or from voicing the beauty and exaltation of the music. We know that evil thoughts react on the body and result in diseases, which prevent the singer from reaching a high point of excellence. We must think right thoughts for these are the worth while things of life. Singing teachers utterly fail to take the moral or metaphysical side into consideration in their teaching. They should do this and doubtless would, did they but realize what a large place right thinking occupies in the development of the singer.

"One could name various artists who only consider their own self-aggrandizement; one is compelled to realize that, with such low aims, the artist is bound to fall short of highest achievement. It is our right attitude towards the best in life and the future, that is of real value to us. How often people greet you with the words: 'Well, how is the world treating you to-day?' Does any one ever say to you—'How are you treating the world to-day?' That is the real thing to consider.

"As I said a few moments ago, I have studied ten years on vocal technic and repertoire. I have not ventured to say so before, but I say it to-night—I can sing! Of course most of the operatic tenor roles are in my repertoire. This season I am engaged for fourteen roles at the Metropolitan. These must be ready to sing on demand, that is at a moment's notice,—or say two hours' notice. That means some memory work as well as constant practice.

"Would I rather appear in opera, recital or oratorio? I like them all. A recital program must contain at least a dozen songs, which makes it as long as a leading operatic role.

"The ten years just passed, filled as they have been with close study and public work, I consider in the light of preparation. The following ten years I hope to devote to becoming more widely known in various countries. And then—" a pleasant smile flitted over the fine, clean-cut features,—"then another ten years to make my fortune. But I hasten to assure you the monetary side is quite secondary to the great desire I have to do some good with the talent which has been given me. I realize more and more each day, that to develop the spiritual nature will mean happiness and success in this and in a future existence, and this is worth all the effort and striving it costs."



XXI

FRIEDA HEMPEL

A LESSON WITH A PRIMA DONNA

There is no need to say that Frieda Hempel is one of the most admired artists on the opera and concert stage to-day. Every one knows the fact. Miss Hempel has endeared herself to all through her lovely voice, her use of it, her charm of manner and the sincerity of her art.



It is seven years since Miss Hempel first came to sing at the Metropolitan. America has advanced very greatly in musical appreciation during this period. Miss Hempel herself has grown in artistic stature with each new character she has assumed. This season she has exchanged the opera field for that of the concert room, to the regret of opera patrons and all music lovers, who desired to see her at the Metropolitan. Being so constantly on the wing, it has been extremely difficult to secure a word with the admired artist. Late one afternoon, however, toward the end of her very successful concert season, she was able to devote an hour to a conference with the writer on the principles of vocal art.

How fair, slender and girlish she looked, ensconced among the cushions of a comfortable divan in her music room, with a favorite pet dog nestling at her side.

"And you ask how to master the voice; it seems then, I am to give a vocal lesson," she began, with an arch smile, as she caressed the little creature beside her.

BREATHING

"The very first thing for the singer to consider is breath control; always the breathing—the breathing. She thinks of it morning, noon and night. Even before rising in the morning, she has it on her mind, and may do a few little stunts while still reclining. Then, before beginning her vocal technic in the morning, she goes through a series of breathing exercises. Just what they are is unnecessary to indicate, as each teacher may have his own, or the singer has learned for herself what forms are most beneficial.

VOCAL TECHNIC

"The pianist before the public, or the player who hopes to master the instrument in the future, never thinks of omitting the daily task of scales and exercises; he knows that his chances for success would soon be impaired, even ruined, if he should neglect this important and necessary branch of study.

"It is exactly the same thing with the singer. She cannot afford to do without scales and exercises. If she should, the public would soon find it out. She must be in constant practice in order to produce her tones with smoothness and purity; she must also think whether she is producing them with ease. There should never be any strain, no evidence of effort. Voice production must always seem to be the easiest thing in the world. No audience likes to see painful effort in a singer's face or throat.

VOCAL PRACTICE

"The young singer should always practice with a mirror—do not forget that; she must look pleasant under all circumstances. No one cares to look at a singer who makes faces and grimaces, or scowls when she sings. This applies to any one, young or older. Singing must always seem easy, pleasant, graceful, attractive, winning. This must be the mental concept, and, acted upon, the singer will thus win her audience. I do not mean that one should cultivate a grin when singing; that would be going to the other extreme.

"Let the singer also use a watch when she practices, in order not to overdo. I approve of a good deal of technical study, taken in small doses of ten to fifteen minutes at a time. I myself do about two hours or more, though not all technic; but I make these pauses for rest, so that I am not fatigued. After all, while we must have technic, there is so much more to singing than its technic. Technic is indeed a means to an end, more in the art of song than in almost any other form of art. Technic is the background for expressive singing, and to sing expressively is what every one should be striving for.

WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A SINGER

"A beautiful voice is a gift from heaven, but the cultivation of it rests with its possessor. Here in America, girls do not realize the amount of labor and sacrifice involved, or they might not be so eager to enter upon a career. They are too much taken up with teas, parties and social functions to have sufficient time to devote to vocal study and all that goes with it. There are many other things to study; some piano if possible, languages of course, physical culture and acting, to make the body supple and graceful. I say some piano should be included, at least enough to play accompaniments at sight. But when she has mastered her song or role, she needs an accompanist, for she can never play the music as it should be played while she endeavors to interpret the song as that should be sung. One cannot do complete justice to both at the same time.

"In order to study all the subjects required, the girl with a voice must be willing to give most of her day to the work. This means sacrificing the social side and being willing to throw herself heart and soul into the business of adequately preparing for her career.

AMERICAN VOICES

"I find there are quantities of lovely voices here in America. The quality of the American female voice is beautiful; in no country is it finer, not even in Italy. You have good teachers here, too. Then why are there so few American singers who are properly prepared for a career? Why do we hear of so few who make good and amount to something? If the girl has means and good social connections, she is often not ready to sacrifice social gayeties for the austere life of the student. If she is a poor girl, she frequently cannot afford to take up the subjects necessary for her higher development. Instruction is expensive here, and training for opera almost impossible. The operatic coach requires a goodly fee for his services. And when the girl has prepared several roles where shall she find the opportunity to try them out? Inexperienced singers cannot be accepted at the Metropolitan; that is not the place for them. At the prices charged for seats the management cannot afford to engage any but the very best artists. Until there are more opera houses throughout the country, the American girl will still be obliged to go to Europe for experience and routine. In Europe it is all so much easier. Every little city and town has its own opera house, where regular performances are given and where young singers can try their wings and gain experience. The conductor will often help and coach the singer and never expect a fee for it.

THE YOUNG SINGER BEFORE AN AUDIENCE

"The singer who wishes to make a career in concert, should constantly study to do things easily and gracefully. She is gracious in manner, and sings to the people as though it gave her personal pleasure to stand before them. She has a happy expression of countenance; she is simple, unaffected and sincere. More than all this her singing must be filled with sentiment and soul; it must be deeply felt or it will not touch others. Of what use will be the most elaborate technic in the world if there is no soul back of it. So the young singer cultivates this power of expression, which grows with constant effort. The artist has learned to share her gift of song with her audience, and sings straight across into the hearts of her listeners. The less experienced singer profits by her example.

"Shall the singer carry her music in a song recital, is a much discussed question. Many come on with nothing in hand. What then happens? The hands are clasped in supplication, as though praying for help. This attitude becomes somewhat harrowing when held for a whole program. Other singers toy with chain or fan, movements which may be very inappropriate to the sentiment of the song they are singing. For myself I prefer to hold in hand a small book containing the words of my songs, for it seems to be more graceful and Jess obtrusive than the other ways I have mentioned. I never refer to this little book, as I know the words of my songs backward; I could rise in the middle of the night and go through the program without a glance at words or music, so thoroughly do I know what I am singing. Therefore I do not need the book of words, but I shall always carry it, no matter what the critics may say. And why should not the executive artist reassure himself by having his music with him? It seems to me a pianist would feel so much more certain of himself if he had the notes before him; he of course need not look at them, but their presence would take away the fear that is often an obsession. With the notes at hand he could let himself go, give free reign to fancy, without the terrible anxiety he must often feel.

OPERA OR CONCERT

"People often ask whether I prefer to sing in opera or concert. I always answer, I love both. I enjoy opera for many reasons; I love the concert work, and I am also very fond of oratorio. Of course in the opera I am necessarily restrained; I can never be Frieda Hempel, I must always be some one else; I must always think of the others who are playing with me. In concert I can be myself and express myself. I get near the people; they are my friends and I am theirs. I am much in spirit with oratorio also.

COLORATURA OR DRAMATIC

"Do I think the coloratura voice will ever become dramatic? It depends on the quality of the voice. I think every dramatic singer should cultivate coloratura to some extent—should study smooth legato scales and passages. To listen to some of the dramatic roles of to-day, one would think that smooth legato singing was a lost art. Nothing can take its place, however, and singers should realize this fact."

Miss Hempel believes that every singer, no matter how great, should realize the advantage of constant advice from a capable teacher, in order to prevent the forming of undesirable habits. She also considers Vocal Mastery implies the perfection of everything connected with singing; that is to say, perfect breath control, perfect placement of the voice, perfect tone production, together with all requisite grace, feeling and expressiveness.



WITH THE MASTER TEACHERS



XXII

DAVID BISPHAM

THE MAKING OF ARTIST SINGERS

If we were asked to name one of the best known, and best loved of American singers, the choice would surely fall on David Bispham. This artist, through his vocal, linguistic and histrionic gifts, his serious aims and high ideals, has endeared himself to musicians and music lovers alike. We are all proud of him as an American, and take a sort of personal pride in his achievements.

Mr. Bispham has been before the public as actor-singer for many years. There is no other artist in the English-speaking world who has had greater experience in all kinds of vocal work than this "Quaker Singer," as he calls himself, for he comes from Philadelphia, and is of old English, Quaker, Colonial stock. His professional debut was made in London, in 1891, with the Royal English Opera Company, as the Duc De Longueville, in the beautiful Opera Comique, The Basoche, by Messager. The following year he appeared in Wagnerian Music Drama at the Royal Opera, Covent Garden, performing the part of Kurwenal, in Tristan and Isolde, without rehearsal. His adaptability to music in English, French, Italian and German, caused him to be at once accepted as a member of that distinguished company.

In 1896, Mr. Bispham joined the forces of the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, and remained there for a number of years, singing each season alternately on both sides of the ocean. Of recent years he has devoted most of his time to concerts, though he is one of the founders and officers of the Society of American Singers, with which artistic body he frequently appears in the classic operas of Mozart, Pergolesi, Donizetti and others.

My first conference with Mr. Bispham was held in his New York studio. Here, in this artistic retreat where absolute quiet reigns, though located in the heart of the great city's busy life, the noted singer teaches and works out his programs and various characterizations.

THE PROBLEM OF BREATH CONTROL

"The singer should breathe as easily and naturally as animals and people do when they sleep," he began. "But we are awake when we sing; correct breath control, therefore, must be carefully studied, and is the result of understanding and experience. The best art conceals art. The aim is to produce tones with the utmost ease and naturalness, though these must be gained with patient toil. A child patting the keyboard with his tiny hands, is unconsciously natural and at ease, though he does not know what he is doing; the great pianist is consciously at ease because he understands principles of ease and relaxation, and has acquired the necessary control through years of training.

"The singer acquires management of the breath through correct position and action of his anatomy. The body is held erect, chest active; the network of abdominal muscles constantly gain strength as they learn to push, push, push the air up through the lungs to the windpipe, then through the mouth and nasal cavities." Mr. Bispham illustrated each point in his own person as he described it.

"When the manner of taking breath, and the way to develop the diaphragm and abdominal muscles, is understood, that is only a beginning. Management of the breath is an art in itself. The singer must know what to do with the breath once he has taken it in, or he may let it out in quarts the moment he opens his mouth. He has to learn how much he needs for each phrase. He learns how to conserve the breath; and while it is not desirable to hold one tone to attenuation, that the gallery may gasp with astonishment, as some singers do, yet it is well to learn to do all one conveniently can with one inhalation, provided the phrase permits it.

TECHNICAL MATERIAL

"I give many vocalizes and exercises, which I invent to fit the needs of each pupil. I do not require them to be written down, simply remembered. At the next lesson quite a different set of exercises may be recommended. I also make exercises out of familiar tunes or themes from operatic airs. It will be found that technical material in the various manuals is often chosen from such sources, so why not use them in their original form. Thus while the student is studying technic he is also acquiring much beautiful material, which will be of great value to him later on.

THE STUDY OF REPERTOIRE

"Repertoire is a wide subject and offers a fascinating study to the vocal student. He must have both imagination and sentiment, also the ability to portray, through movement and facial expression, the various moods and states of feeling indicated by words and music.

"In taking up a new role, I read the story to get at the kernel or plot, and see what it means. The composer first saw the words of poem or libretto, and these suggested to him suitable music. So the singer begins his work by carefully reading the words.

"I then have the music of the whole work played for me on the piano, so as to discover its trend and meaning—its content. If the composer is available I ask him to do this. I next begin to study my own part in detail, not only the important sections but the little bits, which seem so small, but are often so difficult to remember."

CHARACTERIZATION

Under this head the singer spoke at length of the difficulty some singers encounter when they endeavor to portray character, or differentiate emotions. There is endless scope in this line, to exercise intelligence and imagination.

"Some singers," continued the artist, "seem incapable of characterizing a role or song. They can do what I call 'flat work,' but cannot individualize a role. A singer may have a beautiful voice yet not be temperamental; he may have no gift for acting, nor be able to do character work.

"At the present moment I am preparing several new roles, three of them are of old men. It rests with me to externalize these three in such a way that they shall all be different, yet consistent with the characters as I understand them. Each make-up must be distinctive, and my work is to portray the parts as I see and feel them. I must get into the skin of each character, so to say, then act as I conceive that particular person would behave under like circumstances. Many singers cannot act, and most actors cannot sing. When the two are combined we have a singing actor, or an actor-singer. Once there was a popular belief that it was not necessary for the singer to know much about acting—if he only had a voice and could sing. The present is changing all that. Many of us realize how very much study is required to perfect this side of our art.

"In this connection I am reminded of my London debut. I was to make it with the Royal English Opera Company. They heard me three times before deciding to take me on. With this formality over, rehearsals began. I soon found that my ideas of how my role—an important one—was to be acted, did not always coincide with the views of the stage director, and there were ructions. The manager saw how things were going, and advised me to accept seemingly the ideas of the stage director during rehearsals, but to study acting with the highest authorities and then work out the conception after my own ideas. Accordingly, I spent an hour daily, before the morning rehearsal, with one of the finest actors of comedy to be found in London. Later in the day, after rehearsal, I spent another hour with a great tragic actor. Thus I worked in both lines, as my part was a mixture of the tragic and the comic. I put in several weeks of very hard work in this way, and felt I had gained greatly. Of course this was entirely on the histrionic side, but it gives an idea of the preparation one needs.

"When the day of the dress rehearsal arrived, I appeared on the scene in full regalia, clean shaven (I had been wearing a beard until then), and performed my role as I had conceived it, regardless of the peculiar ideas of the stage director. At the first performance I made a hit, and a little later was engaged for grand opera at Covent Garden, where I remained for ten years.

KNOWLEDGE OF ANATOMY

"While I believe in understanding one's anatomy sufficiently for proper tone production, and all that goes with it, there are many peculiar and unnecessary fads and tricks resorted to by those who call themselves teachers of singing. The more fantastic the theories inculcated by these people, the more the unwary students seem to believe in them. People like to be deluded, you know. But I am not able to gratify their desires in this direction; for I can't lie about music!

"I was present at a vocal lesson given by one of these so-called instructors. 'You must sing in such a way that the tone will seem to come out of the back of your head,' he told the pupil, and he waved his arms about his head as though he were drawing the tone out visibly. Another pupil was placed flat on his back, then told to breathe as though he were asleep, and then had to sing in that position. Another teacher I know of makes pupils eject spit-balls of tissue paper at the ceiling, to learn the alleged proper control of the breath. What criminal nonsense this is!

"As I have said, I believe in knowing what is necessary about anatomy, but not in too great measure. A new book will soon be issued, I am told, which actually dissects the human body, showing every bone and muscle in any way connected with breath or voice. All this may be of interest as a matter of research, but must one go into such minutiae in order to teach singing? I think the answer must ever be in the negative. You might as well talk to a gold-fish in a bowl-and say: 'If you desire to proceed laterally to the right, kindly oscillate gently your sinister dorsal fin, and you will achieve the desired result.' Oh, Art, what sins are committed in thy name!"

IN THE STUDIO

It is often affirmed that an artist finds experience the best teacher. It must be equally true that the artist-teacher of wide experience in both performance and instruction, should be a safe guide, just because of this varied experience.

I was impressed with this fact when I recently had the privilege of visiting Mr. Bispham's studio during lesson hours, and listening to his instruction. A most interesting sanctum is this studio, filled as it is with souvenirs and pictures of the artist's long career on the operatic stage. Here hangs a drawing in color of Bispham as Telramund, in shining chain armor; there a life-size portrait as "Beethoven," and again as himself. In the midst of all is the master, seated at a table. In front of him, at the piano, stands the student. It is an English song she is at work on, for Mr. Bispham thoroughly believes in mastering English as well as other languages.

How alert he is as he sits there; how keen of eye and ear. Not the slightest fault escapes him. He often sings the phrase himself, then calls for its repetition.

"Sing that passage again; there is a tone in it that is not pleasant—not well-sounding; make it beautiful!" "Careful of your consonants there, they are not distinct; let them be clearer, but don't make them over distinct." "Don't scoop up the ends of the phrases; make the tones this way"; and he illustrates repeatedly. "Sing this phrase in one breath if you can, if not, breathe here—" indicating the place.

The student now takes up an Italian aria. Of course the master teacher has no need of printed score; he knows the arias by heart. He merely jots down a few remarks on a slip of paper, to be referred to later.

The aria goes quite well. At its close the singer goes to her seat and another takes her place. A voice of rich, warm timbre. More English—and it must be most exact, to suit Mr. Bispham's fastidious ear.

"Make the word fire in one syllable, not two. Do not open the mouth quite so wide on the word desire, for, by doing so you lose the balance and the tone is not so good."

VOCALIZES

Another student—with a fine tenor—was asked to vocalize for a number of minutes. He sang ascending and descending tone-figures, sometimes doing them in one breath, at others taking a fresh breath at top. Some of the syllables used were: la, ma, may, and mi. He then sang single tones, swelling and diminishing each. It was found that passing from forte to piano was much more difficult than swelling from soft to loud.

The aria "Be not afraid," was now taken up; it was pronounced one of the most difficult solos ever written, and a very valuable composition for vocal training.

"You sing that phrase too loud," cautioned the instructor. "This is not a human being who is speaking, rather it is a heavenly voice. That high note of the phrase should be made softer, more ethereal. Make it a young tone—put the quality of Spring into it. The whole thing should be more spiritual or spiritualized. Now go through it again from beginning to end."

When this was finished a halt was called; there had been enough work done for that day. Soon the class was dismissed. The young singers—some if not all of them known upon the concert stage—filed out. One young woman remained; she was to have a drama lesson. The master of singing showed himself equally efficient as master of English diction for the spoken drama.

And here, for a time, we must leave him at his work.



XXIII

OSCAR SAENGER

USE OF RECORDS IN VOCAL STUDY

Mr. Oscar Saenger has been termed "maker of artists," since a number of our great singers have come from under his capable hands. He has a rare gift for imparting instruction in a way that is concise and convincing. A man of wide experience, profound knowledge of his subject, commanding personality and winning courtesy, he impresses all who come within his radius that he knows whereof he speaks. A man who "knows what he knows" is one to be followed.

Mr. Saenger had just returned from a season of travel over America as far as the Coast. A most profitable trip he called it, filled with many interesting and unique experiences. He had been lecturing also, in a number of cities, on his new method of vocal study with the aid of the Victor Talking Machine. When he learned I had come expressly to ask for his ideas on vocal technic and study, he said:

"I think you will be interested to hear about my latest hobby, the study of singing with the aid of records." Then he plunged at once into the most absorbingly interesting account of his ideas and achievements in this line I had ever listened to.

TEACHER, ARTIST AND ACCOMPANIST IN ONE

"This is my own idea, of combining the teacher, artist and accompanist in one trinity," he began. "And, by the way, my idea is now patented in Washington. It is the result of nine years' thought and labor, before the idea could be brought out in its finished form. The design has been to make the method and its elucidation so simple that the girl from a small town can understand it.

"The method consists of twenty lessons for each of the five kinds of voices: Soprano, Mezzo-Soprano, Tenor, Baritone and Bass. Each portfolio holds twenty records, together with a book containing minute directions for studying and using the records. I believe that any one, with good intelligence, who wishes to learn to sing, can take the book and records and begin his studies, even though he has never sung before. He can thus prepare himself for future lessons. For you must understand this method is not meant to replace the teacher, but to aid the teacher. I can assure you it aids him in ways without number. It gives him a perfect exemplar to illustrate his principles. If he be fatigued, or unable to sing the passage in question, here is an artist who is never wearied, who is always ready to do it for him. I myself constantly use the records in my lessons. If I have taught a number of consecutive hours, it is a relief to turn to the artist's record and save my own voice.

SIMPLICITY

"As I have said, the design has been to make everything plain and simple. I wrote the book and sent it to the Victor people. They returned it, saying I had written an excellent book, but it was not simple enough. They proposed sending a man to me who was neither a musician nor a singer. If I could make my meaning clear enough for him to understand, it was likely the girl from a little Western town could grasp it.

"So this man came and we worked together. If I talked about head tones, he wanted to know what I meant; if about throaty tones, I had to make these clear to him. When he understood, I was sure any one could understand.

"Thus the books as they stand came into being. The records themselves represent an immense amount of care and effort. Will you believe we had to make over two thousand in order to secure the one hundred needed for the present series? The slightest imperfection is enough to render an otherwise perfect record useless. Even the artists themselves would sometimes become discouraged at the enormous difficulties. It is nerve-racking work, for one must be on tension all the time.

IMITATION A FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLE

"If you are interested, I will go a little more into detail. The main idea of this unique method of study, is imitation. Every human being likes to imitate—from the tiny child to the adult. Acting upon this idea, we take the artist as model. Everything the model does, the student strives to imitate. By means of the record, it is possible for the student to do this over and over again, until he has learned to copy it as accurately as it is possible. And here is where the knowledge and experience of the teacher come in. During the lesson he tests each tone, each phrase, advising the pupil how nearly he approaches the perfect model, or showing him his faults and why he does not succeed in imitating the model more correctly."

FOR BEGINNERS

"Do you mean to say, Mr. Saenger, that this method of vocal study can be taken up by one who knows really nothing of the voice, or singing, and can be used with success; that such a person can become a singer through self-study?"

"It is indeed possible," was the answer; "and it is being done every day. If the student has much intelligence, determination and concentration, she can learn to sing from these directions and these records. They are a great boon to young aspirants in small towns, where there are really no good teachers. In such places local teachers can study and teach from these records.

"Again, you often find people too shy, or too ashamed to go to a teacher for a voice trial or lessons. They want to sing—every one would like to do that; but they don't know how to go at it. With these records they can begin to study, and thus get ready for later lessons. With these records those who are far from a music center can have the benefit of expert instruction at small cost. I might work with a pupil for several months in the ordinary way—without the records—and not be able to teach him even with half the accuracy and quickness obtainable by the new method.

THE ACCOMPANIST

"All singers know how important, how necessary it is to have services of an expert accompanist. The student of this method has one at hand every hour of the day; a tireless accompanist, who is willing to repeat without complaint, as often as necessary.

THE SPEAKING VOICE

"A very important branch of the work, for the would-be singer, is to cultivate the speaking voice. Tones in speaking should always be made beautiful and resonant. Even in children a pleasant quality of voice in speaking can be acquired. Mothers and teachers can be trained to know and produce beautiful tones. The ear must be cultivated to know a pure, beautiful tone and to love it.

BREATHING EXERCISES

"The management of the breath is a most important factor, as the life of the tone depends on the continuance of the breath. The student must cultivate the power of quickly inhaling a full breath and of exhaling it so gradually that she can sing a phrase lasting from ten to twenty seconds. This needs months of arduous practice. In all breathing, inhale through the nose. The lower jaw during singing should be entirely relaxed.

"The tone should be focused just back of the upper front teeth. The way to place the tone forward is to think it forward. The student must think the tone into place.

"To 'attack' a tone is to sing it at once, without any scooping, and with free open throat. When the throat is tightened the student loses power to attack her tones in the right way.

PHRASING

"Phrasing, in a limited sense, is simply musical punctuation. In its broader sense it is almost synonymous with interpretation. For it has to do not only with musical punctuation but with the grouping of tones and words in such a way that the composition is rendered intelligible as a whole, so as to express the ideas of the composer. This is where the intellectual and musical qualities of the singer are brought into requisition. She must grasp the content, whether it be song or aria, in order to effect this grouping intelligently. Accent, crescendo and diminuendo are the most important factors in phrasing. From the very beginning the student should be careful how and where she takes breath and gives accent; there must always be a reason, and thought will generally make the reason clear.

TONE PRODUCTION

"The first thing to be considered is the position of the body; for beauty of tone cannot be obtained unless all efforts harmonize to produce the desired result. An easy, graceful, buoyant position is essential; it can be cultivated in front of a mirror, from the first lesson.

"Tone production is the result of thought. Picture to yourself a beautiful tone; sing it on the vowel Ah. If you stood in rapture before an entrancing scene you would exclaim, Ah, how beautiful. Producing a beautiful tone rests on certain conditions. First, breath control; Second, Freedom of throat; Third, Correct focus of tone.

"We know that a stiff jaw and tongue are the greatest hindrances to the emission of good tone. Muscles of chin and tongue must be trained to become relaxed and flexible. Do not stiffen the jaw or protrude the chin, else your appearance will be painful and your tones faulty.

"To think the tone forward is quite as important as to sing it forward. Without the mental impression of correct placing, the reality cannot exist. It is much better to think the tone forward for five minutes and sing one minute, than to practice the reverse. One should practice in fifteen-minute periods and rest at least ten minutes between. The student should never sing more than two hours a day—one in the morning and one in the afternoon. As most singers love their work, many are inclined to overdo.

"Do not tamper with the two or three extreme upper or lower tones of your voice lest you strain and ruin it permanently. Never practice when suffering from a cold.

"Ideal attack is the tone which starts without any scooping, breathiness or explosiveness. Breathe noiselessly, the secret of which is to breathe from down, up. Faulty emissions of tone are: nasal, guttural, throaty and tremulous. I will give you examples of all these from the record No. 33, which will show you first the fault and then the perfect example. If the pupil studies these perfect emissions of tone and tries to imitate them, there is no need for her to have the common faults mentioned.

SUSTAINED TONES

"The next step is to study sustained tones. As you see the artist begins in the middle of her voice—always the best way—and sings a whole tone on A, with the syllable Ah, always waiting a whole measure for the pupil to imitate the tone. Next she sings A flat and so on down to lower A, the pupil imitating each tone. She now returns to middle A and ascends by half steps to E natural, the pupil copying each tone after it is sung by the artist.

"The tone should be free, round and full, but not loud, and the aim be to preserve the same quality throughout. Do not throw or push the tone, but spin it.

UNITING SEVERAL TONES

"We first begin by uniting two tones, smoothly and evenly, then three in the same way. After each pair or group of tones, the accompaniment is repeated and the pupil imitates what the artist has just sung. Now comes the uniting of five tones, up and down; after this the scale of one octave. The scale should be sung easily with moderate tone quality. A slight accent can be given to the first and last tones of the scale. We all realize the scale is one of the most important exercises for the building of the voice; the preceding exercises have prepared for it.

ARPEGGIOS

"For imparting flexibility to the voice, nothing can exceed the Arpeggio, but like all vocal exercises, it must be produced with precision of tone, singing each interval clearly, with careful intonation, always striving for beauty of tone.

"There are various forms of arpeggios to be used. The second form is carried a third above the octave; the third form a fifth above. This makes an exercise which employs every tone in the scale save one, and gives practice in rapid breathing. Remember, that the note before, taking breath is slightly shortened, in order to give time for taking breath, without disturbing the rhythm.

THE TRILL

"The trill is perhaps the most difficult of all vocal exercises, unless the singer is blessed with a natural trill, which is a rare gift. We begin with quarter notes, then add eighths and sixteenths. This exercise, if practiced daily, will produce the desired result. It is taken on each tone of the voice—trilling in major seconds.

VOCALIZES

"The purpose of vocalizes is to place and fix the voice accurately and to develop taste, while singing rhythmically and elegantly. The records give some Concone exercises, ably interpreted by one of our best known voices. You hear how even and beautiful are the tones sung, and you note the pauses of four measures between each phrase, to allow the student to repeat the phrase, as before.

"I firmly believe this method of study is bound to revolutionize vocal study and teaching. You see it goes to the very foundation, and trains the student to imitate the best models. It even goes farther back, to the children, teaching them how to speak and sing correctly, always making beautiful tones, without harshness or shouting. Young children can learn to sing tones and phrases from the records. Furthermore, I believe the time is coming when the technic and interpretation of every instrument will be taught in this way.